


Serin's Secret Garden

by Osiris_Brackhaus (Rynthjan)



Series: Sir Yaden [22]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Drugs, M/M, Potentially underage sex, Prostitution, Psychics, Rape/Non-con References, Serin, Sexual Content, Singing, Slavery, Violence, murderous flora, phoenix empire, severe brainwashing, sex on stage, various abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:57:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 57,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynthjan/pseuds/Osiris_Brackhaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yaden's husband Kendrik - telepath, empath and soldier - is sent into Serin's most depraved brothel, undercover as a pet and whore, to investigate a dangerous conspiracy…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Now, what do you say, Sir?”

Wordlessly, Kendrik stared at his reflection in the mirror, the nurse and surgeon eagerly waiting for a response next to him all but forgotten. 

He had never thought much of his looks. All his life, he had been a soldier - efficient, neat, keeping his upkeep to a bare minimum. The only time he had ever looked into a mirror had been to check if his camouflage paint covered his ears properly. 

And now this. 

All his life, his hair had never been longer than an inch, buzzed down to his scalp as soon as it grew long enough it could be grabbed.   
Now thick red waves cascaded down his shoulders, glistening with golden highlights, curling gently down to his waist to end in playful little upswings. 

His skin had always been pale underneath his uniform, and sunburned on his hands and neck.   
Now he was evenly tanned, a gentle golden color with a subtle luster that made him think of something between caramel and silk. The unfamiliar color of his skin made his eyes stand out even more, now a forest green rather than the usual greenish gray. 

His fingernails were polished, most of his scars were gone, and his teeth were so gleaming white that he would have bet they glowed in the dark. 

“Lord Kendrik?” the surgeon asked, his eagerness slowly turning into concern at his patient’s prolonged silence. “Are you alright?”

“I am fine.” Kendrik replied, adding just enough emphasis to make sure the doctor believed him. “Thank you.”

This change was unsettling, to say the least. Slowly, he turned around in front of the floor-length mirror, looking at his body from all sides, trying to get acquainted with the new weight now suddenly attached to his head. 

They hadn’t changed his body much, he found. His suddenly flawless complexion made a big difference, naturally, but the proportions were still the same. Wide shoulders and narrow hips, with legs he had always considered too skinny for a man of his size. A ‘dancer’s figure’, his mother had called it, and Kendrik had hated it so much. Proper soldiers weren’t pretty. 

Only now, Kendrik became aware of the sexual attraction and mild, somewhat melancholic envy that oozed out of the two medics next to him. Outwardly, they were both perfectly professional, but Kendrik wasn’t one of the Empire’s best empaths for nothing. Apparently, his new looks were perfectly suited for his next mission. 

“I think I’d like to dress now.” he stated evenly, smiling at the nurse politely. 

Much to Kendrik’s surprise, the woman blushed and nodded, mumbling something hardly intelligible and then rushed out of the room. Blinking, he watched the door she had left through for a moment, trying to cope with what had just happened. Of course, he knew how people reacted when facing someone they found ridiculously attractive, but witnessing a giggling meltdown caused by himself was another matter entirely. 

“Lord Kendrik, if I may, we have a request for you to consider,” the surgeon suddenly remarked, waiting for the noble to nod before he continued. “Sir, as you can see, we have only changed very little, and I have to admit, my whole staff uniformly agrees that we have never seen anyone with such a fortunate genetic makeup.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Honestly, Sir, your skin, your bone structure, your hair especially - you are uniquely beautiful, as close to perfection as we have ever seen on a non-crafted human. We’d like to ask you for permission to use your genetics as templates for other, future work, if you so please.”

Even being an empath, it took Kendrik a few long moments to understand what the man was asking of him. 

“You want to copy parts of me for your work?” he asked, incredulously. “But - what you see is your work, your improvements. I’m rather plain, originally. You of all people should know that.”

Silently, the surgeon shook his head, as if wondering how to word his disagreement most politely. 

“Sir, with all due respect, we didn’t change anything.” he started explaining as if talking to a small child holding a grenade. “We merely repaired, and accelerated hair growth and skin coloration. This is how you would have looked all your life if you hadn’t, well, if you had not been through such hardship, milord.”

“Hardship?!” Kendrik snapped, his soldier self effortlessly breaking through his carefully maintained veneer of nobility. “What fucking hardship?”

“I... Sir, I apologize for my assumption. That was uncalled for.” the surgeon stammered immediately, his emotions radiating flaring caution and anger at his outbreak of almost honesty. “I am sorry. I just thought - I mean, look. Nobody with hair like yours would buzz it off voluntarily, right?”

Kendrik had never had another haircut than his short buzz since he had been a little boy. What in all the seven hells was leading the surgeon to believe Kendrik hadn't done it voluntarily? 

Closing his eyes to concentrate, Kendrik consciously shut off his empathic perceptions. The doctor was merely trying to be polite, and trying to make sense of something he had no clue of. Even though Kendrik felt like breaking the poor man’s nose, he knew the surgeon deserved better.   
“Never mind, Doctor, “ he replied instead, surprising himself with the ease the lie went over his lips. “You did a great job, and I will consider your request accordingly.”

The surgeon nodded politely, looking glad that Kendrik didn’t press the matter any further. 

But slowly, the words of the doctor sank into Kendrik’s consciousness. This was how he would look naturally, just with a tan and long hair and a life outside the army. Again studying his reflection in the mirror, Kendrik wondered what kind of life it would have been that would have had him look like this. Would he have become a dancer, like his mother had always dreamed? Or something else entirely? A movie star, maybe? Or a matinée idol?

Sure as hell, it wouldn’t have included him becoming a prostitute. 

But with life’s perfect sense of irony, this was exactly what he was about to become. 

He would go to Serin, and join the whores of the most depraved establishment of the whole damn planet so notorious for its vices. He would become one of the intoxicating flowers that blossomed inside the fabled walls of Serin's Secret Garden. 

And much to his own surprise, he found himself smiling fiendishly at his mirror image. And he liked what he saw, very much so. 

Maybe, he thought, the most dangerous soldiers were pretty, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

“Commander?” Kendrik asked as he entered Commander Li Ma’s office. “I was told to report to you once my treatments were finished.” 

“Right,” the commanding officer of the Phoenix Knights said without looking up from the paper she was currently reading. “Come in. Close the door.”

Commander Li Ma’s office was a tiny, crammed place right between the main porter platform and the fabled Phoenix Knight lounge. Except for the massive slab of concrete out in the hallway that served as bench for waiting visitors, her door didn’t look much different from any other on the floor. And probably, that was right how she liked it - practical, unpretentious and utterly undetectable for anyone who wasn’t invited. 

Even though Kendrik was merely a Phoenix Knight’s husband, he had met the Commander often enough to know that her brusque demeanor was by no means impolite. She just had more important and pressing matters at hand than to concern herself with trivialities, and she was honest enough not to waste time pretending she did. In a way, exactly that was the reason why she was so uniquely qualified to act as head dispatcher of the Phoenix Knights in all their chaotic, unpredictable and gloriously cinematic assertiveness - she just didn’t give a damn about what people thought of her. She did her job, swiftly and precisely, and neither headstrong knights nor deluges of bad news would ever get her out of step. 

So Kendrik stood at ease in the middle of the room, waiting for her to finish the file she was reading. 

It took quite a while.

Occasionally, some aide came in, either bringing new papers and placing them on one of the countless stacks all over the office or picking up others and disappeared without a word. Normally, Kendrik would hardly have noticed. But today, each time an aide noticed him, their interest flared, the greens and blues of concentration in their auras suddenly awash with pink and orange of mild arousal. In less than the quarter of an hour, he had gathered almost two dozen smiles, winks and appreciatively wriggled eyebrows. 

What an unprecedented amount of attention. 

Sure, he liked being admired, even the sexual undertones were kind of nice, actually. But all his life, Kendrik had mostly been the guy everyone had tried not to get noticed by. The change wasn’t necessarily bad, it was just very sudden. Repeatedly, Kendrik caught himself playing with the tips of his hair. It was hard to believe that this was supposed to be his natural color. 

“Commander?” another voice asked from the door, and Kendrik didn’t even have to look to recognize his husband Yaden, coming to join him in this mission briefing. “I was told Kendrik was here already, and I - “

Yaden’s sentence broke off when he realized that is was Kendrik standing in the middle of the room, for a rare instance stunned out of words. 

“Oh, my...” he said flatly, a wide, beaming smile growing on his face. “Hello...”

The smile came together with an equally beaming emotion of admiration, pride and plain joyful love, his aura a sunrise of gold and rose. Kendrik could deal with being ignored or drooled over, at least moderately well. But the honest adoration and love-filled wonder Yaden bombarded him with were a bit too much. All of a sudden, Kendrik found himself blushing, bobbing on the tips of his toes like a little boy, smirking at his husband with a strange mix of excitement and embarrassment.

“Come in, Yaden,” Li Ma quipped evenly. “Close the door.”

Silently, Yaden did as he was told, and sneaked up to his husband’s side. Almost like teenagers sharing a naughty secret, he sneaked his hand into Kendrik’s, rising to his toes to give him a swift kiss on the lips. Standing right next to Kendrik, he looked up to his husband who stood almost two heads above him with unabashed admiration.

“You look gorgeous,” Yaden said softly, trying not to disturb the commander more than absolutely necessary. “Never thought the hair could make such a difference.”

Kendrik opened his mouth to reply that there was a lot more than his haircut that was new, but then stopped. He could feel Yaden’s emotions clearly enough, and he knew he had never looked much different in his husbands’ eyes. In a way, Yaden had always seen him ‘without all the hardship’, Kendrik realized. 

“Nonsense.” Commander Li Ma suddenly said, and it took both Kendrik and Yaden a moment to realize that she had been talking to herself. 

Apparently, she had finished reading her paper, and now added a few, clipped notes on the bottom of it. Flinging the file onto a pile on the other side of her desk with a motion that spoke of way too much practice, she looked up at the two men for the first time. 

Somehow unsurprisingly, Kendrik’s new looks didn’t generate much more than a mild technical interest in the Commander, the cool blue of her aura never changing. None the less, she nodded briefly, as if accepting the results of her surgeons’ efforts on him. 

“Alright,” she said, picking another, rather thick and well-worn file out from a pile on the floor next to her without looking. “Here’s the deal.”

She opened the file and didn’t do more than glance at the top page. 

“No changes since last week, so it’s still the same story.” She crunched her face as if suddenly being reminded of an aching tooth. “Some Dracon busybodies on Serin are planning some kind of coup, on a level that could severely destabilize parts of the Empire. The Empress wants to kill all suspects, preemptively. The Emperor would prefer to kill only those who actually conspire against him. Luckily, we all work for the Emperor here.” 

Setting aside the file, Commander Li Ma looked at Kendrik, studying his face. Even though she was still perfectly focused on recounting the facts of the mission, Kendrik got the distinct impression that she wasn’t really happy with sending him instead of one of her Knights. 

“Your husband is uniquely qualified, Yaden," Li Ma started without turning her head. "But I sure as hell won’t send him into that hellhole without your explicit consent.”

“Don’t I get any say in the matter?” Kendrik asked, only half joking. But the irony was completely lost on Li Ma. 

“You already agreed to this mission a week ago, before we gave you your make over.” She turned her cool look back to Yaden. “So, do you agree?”

“Yes, Commander. We talked about that already last week, when you asked me to suggest the whole thing to Kendrik.” 

“Just making sure you all know what you’re getting yourself into.” 

“It’s dangerous, I know that,” Kendrik replied instead of his husband. “But I really want to help, and I agree that I am the only one who has a chance of finding any trace of the conspirators.”

“Indeed you are.” Closing the file, Commander Li Ma firmly explained: “But I don’t worry about your health, be it physical or mental. I am worried about your qualification.” Seeing Kendrik opening his mouth to protest, she cut him off with a tiny, sharp gesture. “You’re a soldier, not a spy. You’re not even an actor, and definitely not a whore. You have a strong sense of justice, and you’re an honorable man. Apart from your unique psionic skill set, you’re about the worst choice for the job I could imagine. You even have a temper.”

Looking at his husband for support, Kendrik was taken aback at finding Yaden smiling at him indulgently, nodding that slightly apologetic nod that told him even he was on Li Ma’s side on this. 

“But we need a psion who is both a blocker and a telempath on this mission, and someone who is pretty enough to pass as a part of the Secret Garden’s staff. And that leaves me with exactly one choice.” Looking firmly at Kendrik, her expression made it clear that she was not happy, but without alternative. 

“So listen, for this mission, you only have three objectives, in order of importance.” Li Ma continued. “First, you do not blow your cover. Under no circumstances. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Kendrik and Yaden replied reflexively. 

“Second, you’ll scan the establishment for those conspirators, and report any name you are definitely positive about being involved. Rather err on the side of caution here.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Third, please be careful, and call for help as soon as things get out of control. Please come home in one piece.”

“Yes Ma’am.” This time, it was only Kendrik replying, and a quick glance at his husband revealed Yaden pouting with indignation.

“You never tell me to come home safely!” Yaden complained, putting his fists onto his hips in mock outrage. “You even said ‘please’!”

“Lord Kendrik is a helpful citizen of the Empire, and we owe him our gratitude.” There was a tinge of humor in Li Ma’s perfectly even voice. “You, on the other hand, are a Phoenix Knight. The Emperor owns your backside.”

“Unbelievable.” 

“So...” Kendrik tried to divert the attention from his husband’s antics. “When do I leave?”

“In about an hour,” the Commander replied, deadpan. “You’ll be ported to Serin and from there you’ll be driven to the establishment.”

“I wasn’t aware you had a plan already on how to insert me,” Kendrik replied, slightly surprised. “Or that I would be leaving instantly.”

Li Ma’s polite look clearly stated that she didn’t care even one bit about what he was aware of and what not. Instead, she picked up an envelope that had been lying on her desk and flung it at Kendrik, with the same effortless precision that she had displayed with the other files earlier on. 

“Here’s your papers. Don’t worry about the quality. They’re real, one little advantage of working for the government.” Finally smiling for the first time since Kendrik had entered her office, she added: “You’re a pet of ‘the Duke’, a shadowy figure who prefers to go by his alias only. But he is sufficiently known all over the right places to have all the credibility we need.”

“Oh, you can’t be serious!” Yaden suddenly interrupted. “First you say ‘please’, and then he gets a ‘Duke’ mission before me? What am I doing wrong?”

Li Ma merely blinked at Yaden’s interjection and continued with hardly a pause. “The Duke is unsatisfied with your performance when entertaining his guests, and has paid a handsome sum for you to be trained at the best qualified house of the Empire - the Secret Garden. The Duke graciously has consented that you may perform for customers of the house, but has explicitly stated that he prefers you to remain untouched.”

“That sounds... like a really smart plan.” Kendrik said with slight trepidation. Sure, he had consented to enter the Secret Garden under such cover, but still. Performing for customers? He couldn’t even imagine what that would actually mean in that context. 

Not really in the mood to ask Li Ma another superfluous question, Kendrik leaned over to his husband asked in hushed tones “Who exactly is this Duke, honey?”

Yaden answered with a guilty chuckle that made him look like a boy confessing the time he raided the cookie jar. 

“Oh, he is cool!” he replied. “The Duke is something of a running joke among the Phoenix Knights. He doesn’t really exist, we just leave traces of him everywhere, and each time we use him as pretext the lie get even more credible. And you get to use him as cover before me!”

“I am... sorry?”

“Nah, never mind.” his husband replied generously. “Just make sure you don’t blow your cover. There’s a hell of a lot of people who have worked hard to make him the untouchable crime-lord he is these days.”

“You two done here?” Li Ma interrupted them, sounding firm but actually rather kind. “I think Kendrik has a date with our outfitter before he is shipped off to Serin. And if you don’t have anything to do, Yaden, I sure have a bucket full of cases that need some attention.”

“I think we’re off, then,” Yaden replied instantly. “We all have work to do, don’t we?”

“Indeed.” Kendrik joined in, sketching a vague salute in Commander Li Ma’s direction. “Ma’am.”

“Get to work.” Li Ma replied, but not without a nod to the two of them. “Good luck, Sir Kendrik.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

Careful not to make any sound, Kendrik closed the door behind him. 

“I really didn’t know they would send me off instantly,” he apologized to his husband. “I thought I could at least spend a day or two with you and the kids.”

“Never mind, dear,” Yaden smiled. “It’ always like that - always different than what you expect.” 

Seeing the slightly heartbroken expression on his husband’s face, Yaden sneaked an arm around Kendrik’s waist, gently pulling him along down the corridor. 

“You know what, I’ll come with you to the outfitter. This way, we can spend as much time together as possible.”

Kendrik answered only with a smile, a nod and a silent kiss onto his husband’s head.

He really shouldn’t worry. Their family was used to the unpredictable schedules of the Phoenix Knights, and even the small kids understood what ‘daddy is on a mission’ meant. And maybe, it was even better this way. Less drama, less worries, and overall much less time to get nervous. 

And maybe, if they took the right route to the outfitter’s office on the ground floor, he would even find a broom closet for himself and his husband...


	3. Chapter 3

Serin. 

Birthplace of House Dracon. 

Home of the most poisonous, aggressive, omnivorous and plain murderous fauna and flora humanity had ever encountered. Particularly the flora. Quite unsurprisingly, Serin was also the source of most of the drugs, poisons and precious organic materials of the Empire. 

It was a fascinating planet, to say the least, and Kendrik was almost a little disappointed that he would not be able to see much of the famous forests of Serin. 

But as Commander Li Ma had promised, he had been ported right to Serin spaceport. From there, a grim chauffeur had picked him up in the lobby, his lapel pin of a stylized dakka flower in a square box instantly identifying him as a member of staff of the Secret Garden. The guy hadn’t said a word, only picked up Kendrik’s impressive array of valises and walked him to the underground parking area. From there, they had left along the planet’s only road towards the establishment Kendrik would be ‘training’ in for the next weeks. 

Looking through the tinted glass at the seemingly endless lineup of houses, Kendrik smiled despite himself.   
Serin was a planet no one in his sane mind would consider suitable for human life. The original settlers must have been pretty damn desperate to even try building a life among all these monsters. But these days, there was a sizable population living on Serin, most of them along the only real city on the planet – the houses along the only real road on the planet. 

Originally, human settlements had been single, fortress-like mansions and towers in the wild, protected from the constant assault of wildlife by massive energy screens. With those mansions unconnected by roads, all transport had been organized by air travel.   
But when off-world trade became more and more important and House Dracon rose to become one of the Royal Houses, they decided that there had to be at least one ground connection from the spaceport to the Lair, the central palace and official seat of the head of the House. So a wide swath of jungle was cut down, at tremendous financial and human costs, until a proper road went from port to palace in a single straight line of almost fifty miles. 

It didn’t take long for the inhabitants of Serin to realize that on both sides between the road and the energy screens, there was enough room to build a small house. As cheap, protected building ground was a thing unheard of on Serin, it only took a few years until the whole length of the road was settled. 

Today, the buildings lining the road were stacked like sardines in a tin, piling as high as the inward-curving shields allowed. With no natural landmarks along the road through an endless sea of green, the houses had to become landmarks by themselves. Consequentially, a breathtaking riot of building styles, colors, lights and advertising lined the road, with each new building project trying to be even more iconic than its neighbors. It made the half-hour trip from the spaceport to the Secret Garden a unique tour, indeed. 

As one of the oldest and most renowned brothels of Serin, the Secret Garden had been one of the first buildings here on the road, and one of the very few still standing. Since almost four centuries, now, it had been the first address for bored Dracon who longed to be entertained. Four hundred years of drugs, rape, murder, torture and all kinds of cruel games the House of the Dragon could come up with. It was a history that made the jaded Dracon smile with anticipation and elicited shivers in every other citizen of the empire. 

The generations of human suffering that had happened behind the walls of the Secret Garden had saturated the place with pain. Several psions had already collapsed in screaming agony just because their cab had passed the building.   
But exactly that was the reason why Kendrik was so uniquely qualified as a spy inside the Secret Garden. He wasn’t just a strong telempath. He also was a blocker, able to suppress both supernatural effects and his own empathic senses. As far as he knew, he was the only psion even considering to work inside the Secret Garden, let alone to actively use his supernatural senses. 

But Kendrik was confident he would have the strength do get this job done. He had been a soldier before he had met Yaden, fighting in the civil war that ravaged his home. Killing another sentient was about as painful to a sensitive empath as it could be, and he had done it many times. Too many times, probably, but he had always been able to separate himself sufficiently from his perceptions to get the job done. 

How much worse could a brothel be?

The Secret Garden’s background radiation was also why the Phoenix Knight Tower had chosen this slightly cumbersome method of transportation, instead of porting him directly into the establishment. Sitting in a car, traveling at a comparatively leisurely speed, he would at least have a chance to call the mission off as soon as he felt overwhelmed by the residual emotions. 

Shifting restlessly in his seat, Kendrik found himself adjusting the slave collar he was wearing around his neck. A thick golden choker with a beautiful emerald, it suited him so well it almost looked like a piece of jewelery. But it was unmistakably a slave collar, and Kendrik was more than a little surprised how much it irritated him. Even if he only pretended to be a slave. 

But then, the Secret Garden approached, and Kendrik focused on his mission again. Even before the building came into sight, he could feel a churning cloud of pain and misery in that direction. The sheer volume surprised Kendrik, who had assumed it would be maybe as bad as the background radiation at the site of some war crime, or the like. He had seen and survived enough of those. But this was so much more pervasive, choking, threatening to overwhelm any sense of self in the former soldier.

But so far, he coped. Clamping down on his own powers always felt like turning the world around him black-and-white, a whole dimension of information missing from his perceptions. Dull, but sometimes dull wasn't a bad thing at all. Like, right now. 

The car slowed down as they finally reached their destination, and Kendrik got a first and last look at the building he would be living in for the coming weeks. Somewhat squat and flat, the Secret Garden didn’t look so much like a building, but more like a twenty-foot-high wall, a smooth, windowless expanse of shiny black bricks that stood in stark contrast to the otherwise gaudy architecture along the road. Not even a sign or name marred the austere beauty of the place. The only visible interruption of that wall was a plain, covered driveway, its open sides covered by holographic scrambler screens for privacy. 

Leaving the road and entering the driveway, Kendrik had to swallow, trying hard to keep his calm. Every nerve inside his body screamed to run, to flee from this place of evil. But it didn’t get worse than that, and slowly, he felt himself relax into some state of uncomfortable calm. At least, it could be mistaken for meek insecurity easily enough, as it would befit a Dracon pet being sent here for training. 

The car stopped, and much too soon, the driver opened the door, gesturing Kendrik to get out. 

Taking a deep breath, he braced himself and did as he was told. Much to his own discomfort, he realized his hands were trembling. Nothing that would give him away, actually, it made him being a pet much more believable. But it also meant keeping himself from running away was eating up much more of his concentration than he would have liked. It would take some getting used to before he could even think of opening his psychic senses here. 

Around him, the sounds of the road were muted, the outside world a lazy waterfall of faded colors through the scrambler screens. The Secret Garden took a lot of effort to live up to its name, Kendrik mused. 

The driver ushered Kendrik into the building with gentle insistence, while a whole flock of servants descended on the car and took care of Kendrik’s luggage. A succession of liveried guards led Kendrik through a maze of dimly lit foyers and dark corridors, apparently just the rooms used to store the coats and weapons of the various patrons. 

Finally, a huge, double-winged door opened before them, light and music pouring out like a revelation, and despite everything, Kendrik had to smile at the carefully manipulative orchestration. The Secret Garden was not only secret, it was also well removed from the outside world, implying a sense of safety and privacy that would allow the patrons to truly relax, let go and enjoy themselves. And probably, spend unholy sums of money in the process. 

Behind the door, a huge, red-and-gold lobby almost collapsed under its own splendor; a grand and oddly tasteful cave of fluted pillars and chandeliers, vaulted ceilings and gilded murals. A handful of guests were lingering on purple settees, apparently waiting for their friends or some poor whore they had ordered. Maybe both. 

Kendrik was still marveling at the admittedly beautiful ceiling and wondering how in hell they had fit such a high room behind the black wall as he finally was addressed for the first time since arriving here on Serin. 

“You must be Kendrik.” 

Snapping around, he found himself facing a stunning woman of indiscernible age. Beautiful, yes, but it was her striking poise that made her stand out even with all the splendor around her. Kendrik wouldn’t even have needed the fine slave's collar around her neck or the square pin at her chest to know she worked here. 

“Welcome to the Secret Garden. I hope your voyage here was uneventful?”

“It was,” Kendrik replied politely, trying to sound like a pet, even though he was mostly guessing. “I hope it is not too much of an inconvenience that I am here.”

“Your master paid for us to train you,” the woman replied evenly. Clamping down on his supernatural senses as he did in the moment, he couldn't even tell the color of her aura, but Kendrik was sure there was something like compassion in her eyes. 

“We’re all professionals here, so as long as someone pays, we’re happy to oblige," she continued, allowing herself a tiny smile at her mediocre joke. 

“Don’t worry, it won’t be too bad," she added with a reassuring nod. "I am Mistress Ondine, and you can address me as ‘Mistress’. Think of me as your shift leader, but really, in all ways that concern you, I am your current master. I will assess your skills and assign your training. I will report your progress to your master, and I will ensure you won’t fail. Any questions?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Good.” She smiled, but the smile never reached her eyes. “Now follow me, I will show you your quarters.”

Mistress Ondine turned around and led the way, and much to his own surprise, Kendrik found it hard to concentrate on the surroundings any longer. She definitely was a woman of exquisite proportions, and he found himself mesmerized by the way the perfect curve of her ass swayed ever so slightly in her walk. The glossy fabric of her simple sheath dress slipped over her skin with an faint rustle, just loud enough to be audible, making it even harder to concentrate on anything besides her perfectly swaying behind. And he usually didn’t even fancy women.

“You’ll get used to it,” Mistress Ondine suddenly said, and it took Kendrik a heartbeat to remember that he was supposed to look up. She had stopped in the middle of some hallway, devoid of customers, and was now smiling at Kendrik over her shoulder. “Never mind, it is a compliment, and an honest one on top. That is a rare thing in our profession.” 

Honestly at a complete loss of words, Kendrik just smiled back at her, sheepishly. 

What was he supposed to say anyway? Sorry Ma’am, but I’m a soldier, not a whore? Taciturn but full of passion? Considering the way he looked, that sounded ridiculous even to Kendrik. Even though it had been perfectly truthful until just a few days ago. 

Luckily, she didn’t wait for Kendrik to say anything. Instead, she pointed at a bunch of colored lines running along one side of the corridor. 

“You see these lines?” she asked calmly. “They will serve as your basic orientation until you feel a little more at home here. Blue line always leads to the staff quarters, the green one leads to the canteen. Red lines lead to the areas accessible to customers, so never go there unless you’re in company. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Only in the last moment Kendrik managed not to address her as Ma’am. Beautiful and courteous as Mistress Ondine was, there was also an undeniably military crispness about her.

“Good.” Eying Kendrik for a moment, she asked: “Can you read?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good. There are maps hanging on every major crossing, so you’ll be able to find you way around this place in no time.” Looking Kendrik up and down again, she added: “I’ll show you the canteen next, and then your room, where your first instructor will be picking you up.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Maybe, if he saw this mission as some kind of kinky boot-camp, it wouldn’t be that hard.

A coldly bemused smile crept into the corner of Ondine’s mouth. 

“Mistress will be sufficient,” she remarked with a cocked eyebrow before she turned around on her high heels and swayed down the corridor ahead. 

Dammit, Kendrik cursed inwardly. This wasn’t going to be easy.


	4. Chapter 4

The pain was getting worse by the minute.

It had started harmlessly enough, just a simple throbbing behind Kendrik's temples. Nothing severe, just a sign that he was constantly blocking a lot of negative emotions around him, and that it was taking a toll. 

While Mistress Ondine had shown him around the place, he had hardly noticed anything overly strenuous. The canteen, the training rooms, everywhere the background radiation had been bad, but not overwhelming. 

Here, in his tiny cell all by himself, it was a different matter altogether. The place was cramped, but nicely furnished, windowless but perfectly aired. And still, lying down on the narrow bed hadn’t brought any relief. If at all, the rest had made things worse, as if the silence of his own mind made the hollow voices outside all the louder. 

And it wasn’t just the pain and suffering of the poor slaves that had been killed here over the centuries that got Kendrik’s nerves fraying. It was the despair, the hopelessness, the resignation that seeped through the walls of his cell and seemed to drain any confidence out of Kendrik. He wasn’t even sure any longer he was able to pull this off. 

He had been here just a few hours, and already he was feeling stretched thin. How was he supposed to manage this for any real amount of time? How was he supposed to fall asleep in here, amid this cacophony of horrors? He would have to sleep eventually. 

With an infuriated grunt, Kendrik hauled himself out of his bed and started pacing through the tiny room as much as that was possible. 

He had done it again. Succumbed to the emotions outside of his head, made them his own. 

He wasn’t desperate, he was neither weak nor exhausted. It was them, the others out there who were desperate. He had to remain focused on his mission. A mission that was vitally important to the Empire. 

With relief, Kendrik felt the hopelessness inside him recede. So it definitely had been an external emotion, and him being angry about this had helped separate him from it. He had made a beginner’s mistake, and he would not let that happen again. Kendrik thanked whatever deity might be listening that he had made this mistake when he was alone.

Nervously massaging his hands, Kendrik wondered what he was going to do next. Ondine had told him to wait in his cell until his instructor arrived. But this tiny, impersonal cell offered no distraction at all, nothing to take his mind of the demons lurking just outside his perception, all the horror and despair that was scratching at his mental defenses. And he definitely couldn’t go on pacing up and down, three steps in each direction. That would drive even a non-psychic crazy. 

So finally, he remembered what he had been doing back during the days when had just enlisted with the army, and he had been forced to hide that he was a psion – he started working out. Swiftly, the tiny chair and the equally tiny desk were put onto the bed, and Kendrik was down on the floor, doing push-ups. Two-armed, one-armed, with his feet on the chair, you name it. Anything to keep his mind from going silent. Anything from keeping himself from hearing those voices outside. 

Though, actually, some of these voices seemed to come from the other side of the door, not from inside his head. 

Startled, Kendrik stopped moving, listening carefully. So far, the Secret Garden had been a place full of dignified and diligent silence. But now there definitely was a man outside in the hallway, yelling, cursing. And rapidly coming closer. 

“You fucking little rat!” a man’s voice shouted somewhere not far off. “I’ll make you pay for this, you filthy little coward, I promise -”

Before he could even think about it, Kendrik was back on his feet again. Grateful for any kind of distraction, he was out on the hallway without even putting his shirt back on. 

He wasn’t half out of his room when someone ran into him. The other person was short and much lighter than Kendrik, but running damn fast, and both of them had trouble to keep their footing. 

“Whoa, watch out!” Kendrik exclaimed, more startled than angry. 

“No, no! Please, let me go!”

Instinctively, Kendrik had grabbed the other person’s arm, and only now really registered that he was holding a boy, half-naked, who was struggling to get out of his grip. Black haired, maybe fourteen, fifteen years of age, with the most startling blue eyes Kendrik had ever seen. 

“Please!” the boy pleaded, his eyes big as saucers and oddly mesmerizing. “Please, Clive will beat me black and blue again!”

“I won’t let anybody hurt you.” Kendrik said instantly, his protective instincts flaring. Nobody would harm a child while he was around. 

“Okay...” the boy whispered cautiously, trying to pry Kendrik’s fingers off his arm. “Then, like, now?”

“There you are, you little viper!”

Looking up, Kendrik saw a man running around the corner of the hallway. Big and brawny, maybe forty years old, wearing a dark vest over his tattooed chest and thick leather pants with the fly still open. Judging by the way he was staring at the boy, this had to be Clive. 

Kendrik hated him instantly. 

“Whoever you are,” Clive started, “thanks for catching that little rat for me.” 

Walking up to Kendrik, Clive reached out as if expecting him to hand over the boy. Instinctively, Kendrik stepped between them. Whatever the kid might have done, he wouldn’t leave him to such a brute. 

“No.” Kendrik replied, a tiny smile creeping into the corner of his mouth. “He’s under my protection now.” 

“What?” Clive seemed to need a moment to process the information. “Listen, noob. I don’t care where they bought you from, and what you were. We have our own rules here. And rule number one is – you don’t mess with me.”

“Really.” Kendrik lashed forward, grabbing Clive by his throat and slamming him against the other wall. “Or else what?”

Clive didn’t reply. Instead, he jerked up his knee, going for Kendrik’s kidneys. But Kendrik hardly cared. Clive was heavy set, and clearly a trained and dirty fighter, but still almost a head shorter than Kendrik. He was no veteran soldier, and definitely hadn’t been through the augmentation process that was standard for the soldiers of the Scilla Republic. Kendrik could have broken his neck there and then, but he didn’t. He was supposed to act like a pet, and he would only betray the full extent of his abilities when he had no other option. 

In a brawl with a whore with an attitude problem, though, he still had plenty of options. 

So Kendrik let go of Clive, and instead of delivering a killing high kick to the other man’s head, he settled for a swift exchange of punches, making sure Clive could land a few, insignificant hits of his own. Within merely a few seconds, Clive was stumbling, holding his bleeding nose and desperately gasping for air. 

Damn, that felt good, Kendrik thought to himself. Beating up bullies is a perfect remedy to despair. 

“Now piss off, you pathetic fool,” Kendrik snapped at Clive, adding a deft kick as an incentive. “Next time, try to pick a fight with someone your size, or I’ll jump in again to even the odds!”

“You will pay for this!” Clive hissed, furious but not in the mood to take the fight any further. So he hobbled away, fuming, surely plotting some bloody revenge for the humiliation. 

Actually, Kendrik found himself looking forward to the attempt. He felt invigorated and fit again, much to his own surprise. He knew that adrenalin was a perfect way to help him fortify his mental barriers, but the amount of protection a good old fist-fight offered baffled even him. He should try and seek out Clive regularly during his stay, Kendrik decided. 

Turning around, Kendrik looked for his new ‘protégé’, but found the hallway empty. The boy must have bolted instantly as soon as Kendrik had let him go. No surprise there, of course. But Kendrik would have liked to talk to him, find out why Clive had been so mad, and at least get a name to go with those amazing eyes. 

But he would still be here for a while, Kendrik decided, and maybe it was good to have something to look forward to. Like meeting that boy again, and finding out a little more about his story.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After beating up Clive, Kendrik has to face the unexpected consequences of his actions…

It was only when Kendrik closed the door of his cell behind him that he noticed the stowaway. 

“Hi there,” the blue-eyed boy from the hallway said, waving shyly. Sitting on Kendrik’s bed, cross-legged and smiling, he looked even younger than before. “Can I hide with you for a while?”

The kid must have sneaked inside while he had been busy beating up Clive, Kendrik realized. Quite a smart move for a boy of his age. Kendrik’s cell surely would be the last place that bully would come looking. 

“Sure. Stay as long as you want.” Smiling, Kendrik reached out with his hand. “Hi, I am Kendrik.”

“You’re really new, aren’t you?” he asked with an amused sparkle to his dark blue eyes, but shook Kendrik’s hand none the less. “I am Luca.”

“I’ve been here an hour, maybe two.” Kendrik explained, but instantly saw that this hadn’t been the answer Luca had been expecting. 

“And what were you before that?” 

“A pet,” Kendrik replied. “And before that, a soldier.” 

“Figures.” Grinning, Luca gestured towards the door. “The way you beat up Clive, that sure was no whore fighting.” Hesitating, he added: “Thanks for protecting me, though.”

“You are welcome,” Kendrik replied honestly. “What the hell was he thinking anyway, going after you like that? Does it happen often?”

“Only when I bite his dick.” Luca explained with such dry honesty that it took Kendrik several heartbeats to realize that the boy wasn’t joking. “See, I told him I would suck him off if he didn’t fuck my head. Of course he did, and I hate the way his fucking piercings clang against my teeth, you know? So I bit down, hard, and ran for my life. So, yeah, that’s been a first, but not the first time Clive’s beating someone up.” 

“You... You work here?” Kendrik summed up the only horrifying fact that he had been able to distill out of Luca’s overly graphic explanation. “My god, how old are you?”

Luca blinked, slowly, as if insecure what kind of information Kendrik was actually asking for. 

“Sure I work here,” he answered, “Everyone you’ll meet here behind the scenes works here.”

Suddenly, the boy’s demeanor changed, from precocious teen to insecure child. 

“And they never told me how old I am,” Luca said with a slight pout and a well-trained look through long, downcast lashes. “I think I am thirteen. Maybe even thirteen-and-a-half.”

“You – you are a child.” 

Kendrik had known all the time that the people here in the Empire didn’t care one bit about protecting children, but actually being confronted with the fact like this was hard to swallow. Everything inside Kendrik screamed to get this child out of here, to protect and rescue him. But he had a role to play here, as well, and that included allowing children like that adorable boy on his bed being sold as a whore to people that were no better than the monsters that roamed the forests of Serin. 

“Of course I am a child,” Luca replied, his innocent insecurity falling off him like a mask. “That’s my strongest selling point!” 

Rubbing his nose, Luca reconsidered for a moment before adding:

“Actually I think I am at least sixteen, probably seventeen. I mean, I’ve been sold as thirteen now for at least three years, so I figure I am older than that. Right?” 

“Oh my god.” The thoughts in Kendrik’s head were running in circles, not leaving much room for any witty remarks. “I am so sorry.”

Luca looked positively lost at Kendrik’s remark. 

“Sorry for what?”

“For what they do to you.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kendrik registered that Luca didn’t see himself as a victim. Believing it, though, was another matter entirely. “You should be out there, at school, doing things normal kids do at your age.”

“Like what?” Luca sounded genuinely confused. “Working at a factory? Or a mine? Please.”

It took a conscious effort for Kendrik to confront the fact that Luca wasn’t the poor, victimized child he was supposed to be. He was young, yes, but also rather aware of his status and his options – which, as a slave here on Serin, were basically nil. Maybe, if seen from his perspective, living a life of relative safety and luxury wasn’t such a bad thing, then. 

Why the hell was he even trying to justify any of this?!

“Uh – whatever.” Kendrik gave up his attempt to convince Luca to feel bad for himself. “It is just – where I come from, the age of consent is twenty-one, and I have never seen anyone as young as you working... in a brothel.”

“Sure, no problem.” Luca replied light-heartedly, still looking at Kendrik as if he was some rare animal, both to be marveled at and cautious of. “Consenting to what?”

Kendrik closed his eyes in a vain attempt to hide his frustration. Of course a civilized concept as ‘age of consent’ was virtually unknown in the Phoenix Empire. Staying undercover was proving so much harder than he had expected. 

“Consenting to sex.” he answered without looking at Luca. “Sleeping with children is considered a harsh crime among my people.”

“Wow, that’s cruel.”

Kendrik’s complete lack of comprehension must have shown in his face, because Luca gave a stifled laugh and started explaining. 

“Man, seriously. I would have to wait at least four more years before someone was allowed to fuck me? I don’t think I could survive that.” Chuckling, Luca looked at his hands. “I mean, I have got two healthy hands and a really filthy and creative mind, but five years? Your youngsters must be humping trees, desperate as they are.”

“I have never seen anything like that...” Kendrik replied hesitantly, struggling to reconcile everything he thought he had known about underage sex with the stubbornly untraumatized boy on his bed. “Maybe we should just change subjects now.”

“Oh.” Luca suddenly looked genuinely sorry. “Bad topic?”

If Kendrik had felt protective about Luca before, now his big, blue puppy eyes just made him want to hold and cuddle the boy. 

“I know I am still clumsy,” Luca continued apologetically. “Ondine says I really got to work on that if I want to stay on the job.” 

For a heartbeat, Kendrik was tempted to ask what exactly ‘staying on the job’ meant and why Luca considered that to be a good thing. But then he remembered the hard time he had had to swallow tonight’s earlier answers, and decided to shut up. He really wasn’t in the mood to stomach another vile revelation about the way people were treated in his husband’s empire. 

“So... another subject,” Luca continued as if he hadn’t noticed Kendrik’s forced silence. “What about you, why are you here? Have you been bought by the Garden?”

“My Master sent me here for training,” Kendrik replied, happy to have anything to say that didn’t remind him of the fact that he was working in a place where they were selling children to perverted nobles. “He doesn’t like the way I ‘entertain guests’ and thinks that you folks here can help me.”

“Do you like entertaining guests?” 

“No.” The answer had been out faster than Kendrik could think better of it. “No, not really. Actually, most of the time I have absolutely no clue at all what my Master expects of me.” 

“Well, they sure know how to teach you here.” Luca replied. Hesitating for a moment, he looked at Kendrik before he asked: “You know you don’t have to keep standing around all the time, just because I am sitting on your bed, don’t you?”

Agitated as he had been, Kendrik hadn’t even realized he had remained standing all the time. Neither had he put his shirt back on, but then again, his long trousers almost covered more of his skin than Luca’s skimpy shirt and barely substantial shorts.   
So he sat down on his bed opposite Luca, wondering what to say next, as the boy asked lightly: 

“So, are you waiting for someone or do you have a customer scheduled already?”

“I’m waiting for my first instructor.” Kendrik replied. “My Master doesn’t allow me to have customers. At least, that is what I think he said. I may perform, but ought to remain untouched, whatever that means.” 

“That’s good.”

“What?”

“Well, it means that a) your Master really cares for you. Else he would have just sent you here and told them to drill you as fast as possible. He must be paying quite some money for them to accept such demands.” Stretching comfortably, Luca leaned back, revealing his fit, lean stomach and quite a lot of his immaculate white skin. “And secondly, it means that we have at least half an hour left.”

“Before what?”

“Before your instructor arrives.” Pointing at the large clock above the door, Luca explained: “This is a brothel, everything here happens by the hour. And if your instructor arrives, it will be at a full hour or he won’t come.” 

“Makes sense. Good to know.” Looking back at Luca, Kendrik realized that he had no idea what he was supposed to do with the remaining time. “So, what are you doing here when you’ve got spare time on your hands?”

Instead of an answer, Luca stretched again, slipping deeper onto the bed. Biting his lower lip, he looked at Kendrik as if that was all he needed as an answer. 

“Are you tired?” Kendrik asked, trying very hard not to jump to any obvious conclusions. “You can take a nap, if you want.”

But Luca only laughed at Kendrik’s feeble attempt of deflection. Nimble as a cat, he turned around onto all fours and prowled across the bed towards Kendrik, still biting his lower lip as if looking forward to an especially tasty treat. 

“No, I am not tired,” he whispered close to Kendrik’s ear. His voice had taken on a husky note that should have been illegal on a boy of his age. “I just want you to fuck me.”

“No!” Kendrik replied firmly. “You don’t have to do that.”

Taken aback, Luca looked at Kendrik. “Of course I don’t have to, I’m off duty.”

“Please, Luca, stop. I would never hurt you.”

“I know.” Sitting down on the bed, Luca looked confused and yet determined. “I know. That is why I want to fuck around with you. It’d be fun for a change.”

This sudden reminder of Luca’s ‘job’ was just too much for Kendrik. He turned around and grabbed the boy by his shoulders, taking a deep breath to firmly explain to him that he would never, ever do such a terrible thing to him. 

But excited as he was, Kendrik slipped into his old habits, and allowed himself a small glimpse at Luca’s emotions when his fingers touched his skin.

All of a sudden, his mind was overwhelmed with streaks of silver-white stars, spinning on a sky of midnight blue, the color of Luca’s eyes. Emotions washed over him, deep and cool like water of a lake at night, a longing like the silence of a winter forest, like moonlight casting through the trees. Those sensations were so big and honest and clear they were intoxicating.

As if having burned his fingers, Kendrik let go of Luca and all but jumped off the bed. 

“No,” he whispered, staring at the boy with an equal mix of wonder and dread. “No.”

Still, the memories of Luca’s intense emotions reverberated in Kendrik’s mind, and already mingled with his own. What a luxury it would be to make love to someone who could feel this clearly, this vibrantly. He could almost see their emotions mingle, his red and Luca’s midnight blue, hot and cold, attracting and repelling each other. It would be utterly carnal, blissful, perfect. 

And he would still be forcing himself on a boy not even a third of his age, who could easily be his son. 

Disgusted at his own desire, Kendrik did the only thing he could – he fled out of his cell, closing the door tightly behind him. Leaning against the door, he took a deep, exhausted breath, hitting his head against the panel just to have something else to concentrate on. 

Meeting someone with such a strong emotional resonance was a rare, almost mystical occurrence for empaths like him. Most empaths Kendrik knew never met their perfect partner. 

But before he had touched Luca, he had already once met another person he connected that strongly to. Some years ago, he had been abandoned in his wrecked fighter jet when his people fled what the Empire called the ‘One Day War’. Kendrik had only survived because a certain Phoenix Knight had pulled him out of space. He had felt such a strong connection that day, and now he was married to Yaden. And his husbands. And their wife. 

The implications were staggering. Suddenly, this mission had become the most complicated thing Kendrik ever had to face.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Already struggling to maintain his cover after a few hours inside the Secret Garden, Kendrik has his first lesson…

“Err... Are you alright, there?”

It took Kendrik an embarrassing three moments to realize that there was a person standing next to him who had actually asked him a question.

“It’s okay, I’m fine.” he replied, forcing himself to clamp down on all the chaos in his head. 

He sat slumped onto the ground in the hallway in front of his cell, effectively locking Luca inside the tiny room. Had he really been considering sleeping with a child? The madness that seeped though the aether of this place must have been affecting him harder than he had feared. 

But with a conscious effort, he forced all those worries into a box in the back of his mind. Now was not the time feigning a nervous breakdown. Looking up, he realized that the man standing next to him seemed genuinely concerned. And he looked like a really nice person, if a little out-of-place in his board shorts, unbuttoned floral shirt and worn-out leather sandals. His ridiculously defined abs sure fit the place, though.

“No, really. I’m okay.” Rising from his position on the ground, Kendrik managed to straighten his expression into a friendly smile and reached out his hand. “Hi, I am Kendrik.”

“You know, for a moment, you really didn’t look okay, sitting down there.” The young man’s face lit up in an open smile none the less, revealing a set of brilliantly white teeth in his tanned face. “And I am Ryan. Ondine told me to fetch you for a lesson.”

“You’re my instructor?” Kendrik replied with hardly veiled surprise. The guy was just a little more than twenty years old. Not really what he had expected when thinking about someone who had enough experience to teach other prostitutes. But then again, what did he know about prostitutes? “Good. Really looking forward to learning from you.”

“Sure. Can we go right away or do you need anything else?” Ryan asked, gesturing at the door they were still standing next to.

Kendrik really would have liked to put his shirt back on, but thinking about the boy that was still sitting on his bed, probably wondering what kind of crazy Kendrik was carrying around, made him reconsider his needs drastically. Maybe being clothed wasn’t that important, after all. 

“No, I’m fine. Let’s go.” 

With a nod, Ryan set off through the maze of corridors of the Secret Garden. Kendrik followed him, curiously peeking left and right to get a better feel of the place. When Ondine had given him his first tour of the ‘backstage’ area of the Garden, she had put on such a brisk pace that Kendrik had hardly been able to look around. Now, with Ryan, he had the chance to actually notice other people walking around, everyone looking calm and diligent and rather professional. 

It didn’t take a master spy to see the difference between the whores and the plain housekeeping staff – the staff wore simple uniforms of perfectly nondescript light gray. The actual ‘talents’ of the house were always dressed up – whether they were giving their 'stroppy street kid' routine or the 'naughty Habichtswald maid', their role was always instantly identifiable, almost iconic. In an odd way, it reminded Kendrik of the buzz and chaos of the Phoenix Knight Tower – only that the people working with his husband were laughing every now and then, a sound that was sorely lacking here in the Secret Garden. 

“Are you always walking like this?” Ryan asked all of a sudden. 

“Huh? What’s wrong with my walk?” 

Instead of explaining his question, Ryan only frowned. 

“Please, go ahead,” he said, gesturing along the corridor they were in. “Let me watch you.”

Kendrik had no clue what could possibly be wrong with the way he was walking, but he bit down a caustic remark and did as Ryan had asked him to. After all, he was supposed to be willing to learn. And who knew, maybe he would even learn something useful here. 

“You are... stomping.” Ryan finally remarked. 

“I’m not stomping.”

Instead of a reply, Ryan only looked at Kendrik, a little sad frown on his face. 

“Could you try and walk, like, as if you were not wearing ceramsteel armor?” 

“And what do you know about ceramsteel armor?” Kendrik flung back without thinking. 

He really had to watch his tongue if he wanted to stay here longer than a few hours. It would anger him beyond words to prove Commander Li Ma right. He mustn’t risk his cover just because some whore accused him of stomping. 

“Just the usual, I think,” Ryan replied entirely without irony. ”Just enough to credibly pass as a horny Belligra priest raping some heretics.”

For another long moment, Kendrik was struggling to get the images out of his head. He really, really ought to be more careful with his questions. The answers he got were just too hard to swallow. 

“People here ask for live-action Belligra porn? Seriously?”

“You really lived a sheltered life, did you? Customers ask for everything.” Giving Kendrik a lopsided smirk, Ryan added: “We have a saying here: if it exists, someone will want to see the porn version.” 

“That sounds... disturbing.”

Ryan only gave him a sympathetic look. 

“Come on, here’s our room.” he said instead, opening a rather non-descript door they had stopped next to.

Much to Kendrik’s surprise, the door lead to a sunlit courtyard, of all things. Slender columns supported a narrow roof of simple red clay tiles on all four sides, and a huge olive tree in one corner offered shade. The air was fresh and smelled faintly of herbs and freshly mowed hay. 

“Goodness.” Kendrik exclaimed, squinting at the pale blue sky above him, trying to see if the feathery clouds were actually moving. “Is this real?” 

“The tree is real, yes. The rest is nothing but stage magic.” Ryan replied with a soft chuckle. Seeing Kendrik’s genuine awe, he added: “This is one of the private rooms the Garden offers in case a customer wants something ‘special’. There’s so many of them, I think only Ondine and Madam Tochka know all.”

“Madam Tochka?”

“The owner of the Secret Garden.” Looking around, Ryan spotted a narrow cabinet that was all but hidden in a corner. Rummaging around, he pulled out a huge standing mirror that looked as plain and pastoral as the whole setup. 

“Come on,” he said to Kendrik. “Don’t just stand around, help me.”

Swiftly, they carried the mirror out into the sun, onto the packed-dirt courtyard. For a moment, Ryan seemed to survey his work, until Kendrik realized he was stared at expectantly.

“What?”

“Get naked.” Ryan ordered patiently, once again with an irritating lack of irony. “You think we can work on your self-perception when you’re dressed?”

“I’m not even sure what we’re going to do at all,” Kendrik replied flatly. Seeing Ryan’s entirely unamused look, he started getting out of his pants where he stood. Not that they had been hiding much, anyway. 

“We start at the beginning.” Ryan explained calmly, quite expertly conveying the impression that he had done this many times and this one wasn’t among his worst. Yet. “You don’t seem to have had any education in your job, but you desperately need it.”

Kendrik finally caught himself before he asked how Ryan had gotten that impression. He was sure he wouldn’t have liked the answer, anyway. So when Ryan gestured him to stand in front of the mirror, Kendrik did as he was told. 

“Look at yourself,” Ryan ordered, firm but kind. “Look and tell me what you see, and try to be honest.”

Kendrik wasn’t entirely sure if Ryan knew that he was asking something that bordered heavily on a philosophical discussion. Judging by his looks, Ryan was someone who spent his days surfing on the beach, but then again, this place was all about looks that deceived. 

“I see a man, with hair way too long and quite glossy skin.”

“That’s rather good. Not what I would have said, but not wrong either. One could argue about the hair, though, beautiful as it is, but that’s beside the point. How old do you think you look?”

That question brought a tiny smile to Kendrik’s face. Now this was a question he had learned to answer properly since he had come to the Phoenix Empire. 

“I look as if I were in my early thirties,” he replied evenly, “maybe a little younger when I dress like it.”

How could anyone know that many of his people had a lifespan much longer than the citizens of the Phoenix Empire? No one here would ever guess that Kendrik was already well in his fifties, and still considered a youngster in his family. And he sure as hell would never tell them. 

“Good, so you have put at least some thought in your appearance.” Ryan actually sounded pleased. “Remember that, and remember the way you look when you’re naked. Because that is the one thing you cannot change, and that is what you’ll have to work with. All else, we can improvise.”

“Why would I want to change the way I look?” Kendrik asked, already dreading the answer. He really, really had to start thinking before asking questions here. 

“Because that’s the only thing that will keep you from being winterlisted one day?” 

“Winterlisted?” 

Ryan gave him a long, calm look, as if wondering if his latest charge maybe was a hopeless case after all. Then he gave a tiny sigh, smiled, and started explaining. 

“You know the Dracon manual on all things sexual – the ‘Gardening for all Seasons’?”

Kendrik nodded. After all, his husbands had a well-worn copy of those books in their bedroom. 

“Basically, spring deals with all kinds of cuddling, summer of plain sex, autumn is all about the kinky stuff, fetishes and bondage. And winter, well, covers all those little games where one of the partners doesn’t necessarily survive.”

Ryan waited until he was sure Kendrik had actually understood what he had just said. Then he added:

“Every owner keeps a list of slaves he doesn’t need any longer, of those who can be used for entertaining along the lines of the ‘Winter Gardening’. And however handsome, talented or unique you are, sooner or later your owner is going to get tired of you, and will put you on that list, whether in his head or on actual paper. And that’s when your time starts running out.”

Kendrik nodded, unable to find the words for any proper reply. He had known all along that people were dying in the bedrooms of ‘proper’ Dracon nobles. But somehow, he had always tricked himself into believing that those were just a few outliers, a handful of truly depraved, sick people.

But of course it was more than that. It was part of the barbarian culture of this Empire. It was so deeply ingrained that the slaves didn’t even see it as the abomination it was. To them, it was just another fact of their lives, like the weather or the color of their eyes. 

Suddenly, Kendrik realized that it made a grisly kind of sense that there was so much more despair in the emotions around him than pain and anger. 

“The only way to stay alive in our line of work it to excite our masters every day anew,” Ryan continued. “And after a while, that means becoming something different than what we were before.”

“Yes.” That was all Kendrik could say right now. 

“Your master obviously cares about you. He wants you to stay interesting, both to him and his peers. That’s why he sent you here.”

Putting on a reassuring smile, Ryan stepped next to Kendrik and put a comforting hand onto the other man’s shoulder. Apparently, he thought Kendrik’s petrified silence came from him being scared about being already winterlisted, and this being his last shot at survival. 

“But you’re lucky, you know?” Ryan said, his voice suddenly soft and just a little envious. “With your looks, you can pass off as nearly everything. From grimy soldier to courtesan, all you need is a different hairdo and another posture, and you could pull it off. Everyone can learn to dress up, but it takes the proper looks to make it work. And you can’t change those.”

With his last words, Ryan pointed at their reflections in the mirror in front of them. 

“You sound as if you don’t believe you could change, do you?” Kendrik asked. 

“And you are dangerously perceptive,” Ryan replied with a tiny, sad smile. “Another priceless trait, as long as you learn to keep your mouth shut, which might just prove a little harder.” Laughing softly, he added: “But yes, you are right. Just look at me. What do you see?”

“Malino surfer boy,” Kendrik answered instantly, almost without thinking. 

“Absolutely.” His somewhat sad smile grew as he self-consciously swept a strand of sun-bleached hair behind his ears. “Not that I’m from Malicorn, I haven’t even been there once. But even when I am naked, this is what everyone sees in me. It’s not bad, far from it, but it’s always the same. Best I can do is a surfer boy playing dress-up.”

For a heartbeat, Kendrik wondered if Ryan had already been ‘winterlisted’, given the predicament he had taken so much time to lay out. His concern must have shown on his face, though, for the prostitute laughed out loud, shaking his head. 

“Oh, don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” Ryan seemed genuinely touched and amused in equal measures. “Yes, I can only pull of one look credibly. But that doesn’t mean I am a one-trick whore, I have a few aces up my sleeve, after all. I perfectly plan to stay alive for quite a long while still, and work as a trainer to keep earning my bread even after the customers stop being interested in me.”

“That’s... good...” Kendrik was still struggling with the fact that apparently, it was possible to live in such horrid circumstances and still be optimistic about the future. Ryan’s positive outlook was literally mind-boggling to him. 

“It’s good enough for me,” Ryan concluded. “But we’ve already wasted enough time talking about me, this is supposed to be about you. We need to get you to understand that you can use your looks to excite your customers, and teach you some basic styles you can start with.”

Feeling somewhat defeated, Kendrik nodded. He was a soldier, not a whore, and this whole mission was miles apart from his usual style. 

“You were a soldier before, weren’t you?” Ryan suddenly asked as if having picked up Kendrik’s thoughts. “Think of this as necessary camouflage skill, to lure your enemies into letting down their defenses.”

This time, it was Kendrik who gave a startled laugh. Was he really that obvious? 

But Ryan was right – maybe he could muster the necessary devotion to his ‘training’ if he saw this like a special kind of boot camp, as he had thought earlier. And thinking of it this way, it actually seemed that being able to pass as someone else was a valuable skill for a soldier, after all. He could remember quite a handful of occasions where it would have saved a lot of lives if he had been able to just walk through the enemies defenses and clean up from behind. 

Maybe this was something really useful for him to learn, after all. And maybe even interesting. He just had to carefully steer away from asking questions. 

“Sir,” Kendrik snapped with a crisp salute, rendered just a little ridiculous by the fact that he was still buck naked, “Reporting for training, Sir!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get a first night’s sleep proves harder than expected inside the Secret Garden…

As he had feared, sleep was hard to come by in the Secret Garden. 

Kendrik had finished his lessons with Ryan after several hours, had gone to eat something at the canteen and then all but keeled over into his bed as soon as he was back in his room. 

He wasn’t physically exhausted, but mentally. This was all very new to him, both pretending to be a whore and learning how to be a good one, too. Keeping up his mental shields against the infernal background radiation of the Secret Garden did take a toll as well. Sleep would have been all he needed, but sleep was a treacherous ally in situations like these. 

In sleep, your mind relaxed, and in places like this, that was a dangerous thing. Dreaming was worse, but how did one sleep without dreaming? It was like trying to hold on tight to a pillow while sleeping – not hard in itself, but almost impossible to manage.

Over the years, Kendrik had learned enough techniques to help him rest in places where he had to keep up his mental guards. He had learned how to implement signals into his dreams to warn him that things were seeping in from the outside, and imagery that allowed him to strengthen his shields even from inside his dreams. But he had never been exposed to such a strong, vicious ambient emotion, and he was worried. 

So for the better part of an hour, he had been lying awake now, tossing and turning from one side to another, trying to calm himself sufficiently to get into a state of mental stability where he could risk falling asleep.   
But it had just been too much today, too many new impressions, too many strong emotions. Images of his day passed in front of his mind’s eye, impressions of Ryan trying to imitate Kendrik’s walk, of Mistress Ondine walking in front of him. The look in Luca’s midnight blue eyes when he touched him, the mental scent of his emotions, the torrential intensity of his desire. 

Thinking of Luca reminded Kendrik of the other time he had met a person that he attuned to that deeply in but an instant. Even though Yaden was a slight person by his looks, he was like bedrock on the inside. More than anything else, Kendrik had fallen in love with the knowledge that he would always be able to rely on Yaden, that he would always be there for him. Yaden was his better half in the most literal sense of the word. 

So instead of wasting more precious time worrying about things he couldn’t change anyway, Kendrik took a deep breath and tried to relax his body at least. Maybe he couldn’t calm his mind sufficiently to fall asleep. But perhaps he would manage to contact Yaden, the person he was closest to in all the universe.

Kendrik knew he was taking a risk here, trying to use his psionic abilities. But he was sure the risk was small enough, as he knew exactly who he was trying to reach. And Yaden’s empathic abilities were growing each day, so maybe he would pick up Kendrik’s call and help him get through the poisoned environment he was working in right now.

It didn’t take long for Kendrik to be sure he had contacted his Phoenix Knight husband. 

\-- Yaden, can you hear me? --

\-- Is everything alright, love? --

The reply came instantly, accompanied by the emotional imagery of love and worry, and the absolute readiness to storm the Secret Garden at the drop of a hat, all guns blazing. Kendrik couldn’t help but smile at the unconditional protectiveness of his lover. 

\-- It’s pretty bad, but so far, I can manage. It’s just very exhausting. --

Together with the verbal explanation, he sent an image of his confusion, his excitement, his horror and exhilaration. What would have taken many words in a spoken conversation and still would have been only an approximation of his feelings, now only took the time of a single thought, and Yaden knew exactly how his husband was feeling. 

\-- You’re doing great. --

\-- You think so? I’m not so sure. I was told I am a totally clueless beginner. And that I am ‘stomping’. --

\-- But you HAVE never been a whore. --

\-- You know perfectly well what I mean. They told me I would be ‘winterlisted’ if I didn’t learn how to properly ‘excite’ my master. --

\-- Oh I would never winterlist you, love! -- 

Groaning inwardly, Kendrik had to remind himself that even though a telempathic communication did ensure there were no verbal misunderstandings between them, it did little to help them overcome the cultural differences in their lives. Despite of all his loveliness, Yaden was still a son of the Phoenix Empire, and their barbaric culture was what he considered normal. 

\-- I know you wouldn’t. I just never met anyone who actually had to think about being winterlisted. Sometimes your Empire still feels very alien to me. --

\-- I never claimed we were the good guys. --

\-- No, you didn’t. Still didn’t prepare me that I would train to be a whore here, to play all meek and sexy and dress up for the pleasure of my ‘masters’. --

\-- Dress up? --

Of course Yaden would perk up. Despite all his husbands, he still had a decidedly naughty streak. Dress-up games only scratched the surface.

Almost groaning inwardly, Kendrik sent his husband the mental image of a nod, together with a few images of the ‘personalities’ Ryan had suggested during the afternoon. 

\-- Do you think... -- Yaden took off, the insecurity if he was maybe asking too much of Kendrik coming across as an ‘audible’ pause, -- You think you could bring one or two of those outfits home when you’re done there? --

A few years ago, Kendrik would have balked at the thought. But he had learned that a lot of the things he thought unmentionable were actually rather entertaining. And that, if Yaden found it important enough to ask despite Kendrik’s ‘shyness’, as he called it, it was a good idea to at least give it a try. 

\-- I’ll see what I can do. --

\-- Thanks, sweetheart. -- 

For a moment, they just enjoyed their mental connection, as if they were together in the same room, holding hands, relaxing. It was good just to feel each other, to reconfirm Kendrik’s knowledge that he wasn’t alone in this, after all. Yaden was merely a thought away, and if things went wrong could get him out of here within seconds. If things were really bad, he’d bring all their husbands and some of their children, too. Together, they were quite a fearsome army. 

\-- How was dinner? -- Kendrik finally asked. 

Instead of sending words, Yaden conveyed his memories as a string of images and impressions. 

Sunlight blinking through the branches of the old olive tree that covered their outdoor dining table. Colin arguing loudly, a fine dusting of flour in his dark hair, his truffle-sweet eyes glinting with amusement. Fine clusters of white fur, probably Teagan’s, drifting across the ground, chased by a gleefully babbling Vian on all fours. Their daughter Myriam, setting down a pile of plates, sternly reprimanding her mother with that ‘stupid parents’ look of hers. The smell of fresh bread on the table, and of fish grilling on the open fireplace nearby. 

Lastly, an image of their daughter Siva, staring at her half-finished dinner plate in perfect artist’s rapture. Her mouth slightly open, her fox-like ears pulled back and a little down, she seemed absolutely oblivious to the world around her, all her considerable attention focused on the way two kinds of gravy mixed on her plate. The only thing moving about her was the tip of her tail, which quivered ever so softly with excitement. No one had dared to disturb her, even after dinner was long over. 

Family. 

Despite everything, despite all the horror and pain and fear outside, there were things of perfect goodness in this universe, and Kendrik felt blessed to be allowed to be part of one of them. 

\-- Thank you, my love. --

\-- Of course. --

Gently, Yaden sent Kendrik the subtle command to keep those images in his mind and now finally get some sleep.

And so that was what Kendrik did.


	8. Chapter 8

“Well, that IS quite an improvement. Good work, Ryan.” 

Sitting in the audience of a small theater within the Secret Garden, Mistress Ondine looked every inch the stern ballet teacher today. Her gray costume with its pencil skirt exuded the same cold professionalism as her severe chignon hairdo. 

But she sounded genuinely pleased, and both Kendrik and Ryan were beaming at her praise. Inwardly, Kendrik was more than a little embarrassed to feel so proud for managing nothing more complicated than walking across a stage in three different ways while wearing nothing at all. But Ryan had been right, there was something eminently useful about being able to credibly offer some variations of himself. 

Over the last several days, they had been training Kendrik’s ability of self-perception, both in terms of outfits and manners. They had worked on identifying some ‘styles’ that Kendrik was especially well suited to pull off, and trained the motion pattens of two of them. Unsurprisingly, ‘soldier’ was one of them. Kendrik wasn’t an especially talented actor, but at least he understood what he was doing. And judging by Ondine’s reaction, they had expected significantly less of him. 

“We’ll have to expand his range, of course, but I think he’s not a lost case.” Ondine decided. Apparently, that was a good thing. “Is he ready for the next step?”

“Mostly, I think.” Ryan replied, all professional as well. “We should give him a dry run before we allow him to mingle, but he’ll be fine in assisting service.” 

“So what’s he lacking?”

“If I understood correctly, Mistress, his owner wants to improve the way Kendrik is entertaining his owner’s guests.” 

“And?”

“He has nothing to entertain them with.”

For a long moment, Ondine gave him a picture-perfect you-gotta-be-kidding-me look. Then her eyes widened in disbelief when she realized Ryan was perfectly serious. 

“He can’t even dance?”

“I needed a week to teach him how to walk. What do you think his dancing looks like?!”

As much as Kendrik had learned to ignore people talking about him as if he wasn’t even in the same room with them, Ryan’s outburst irked him unexpectedly. Kendrik was well aware that he wasn’t exactly a prodigious student. But the way Ryan put it made it sound as if he was barely able to stand. 

“You didn’t even see me dancing once,” Kendrik retorted, almost managing not to sound petulant. 

Both Ryan and Ondine just looked at him, their utterly unconvinced expressions almost comical in their synchronization. 

“So he can’t dance, can’t play any instrument, nothing?” Ondine asked, still sounding doubtful. Still she was talking as if Kendrik weren’t standing right in front of her on the stage, stark naked. “What about pole dancing?” 

“He’d rip the pole out.” Ryan’s deadpan reply was instant. “We’d need ages to teach him anything that requires precise measures of force.” 

“What do I need all that for, anyway?” Kendrik interjected, already dreading the answer. “You’re not seriously expecting me to perform tricks for my master?”

“You’re a pet,” Ondine replied icily. “All you’ll ever do is perform tricks.” 

“Even if you keep your Master interested enough to keep you over the years, he’ll need a reason to present you to his guests.” Ryan added a little less harshly. “If you don’t do anything, you’re as interesting as a painting – once seen, it won’t change. But if you are able to put on any kind of performance, you might become part of your Master’s hospitality for more reasons than your well-lubed holes.”

“So unless you suddenly find a whole ocean full of social graces that so far you have forgotten to put to good use, you’ll have to come up with something, anything that might be entertaining.” 

Both Ondine and Ryan looked at Kendrik as if expecting a sudden revelation. 

“What do you want of me?!” Kendrik finally snapped. “I was a soldier before I was a pet, and I can’t do pretty!”

“We could do the classic courtesan/gladiator mix,” Ryan suggested halfheartedly without reacting to Kendrik’s outburst. “But that’s way overused and too risky for obvious reasons.” 

Ondine nodded and rose from her seat. With measured steps, she walked up onto the stage as well, all the time eying Kendrik as if searching for something she had overlooked all this time. 

“He has got a nice, resonant voice,” she finally said. “Have you tried singing?”

“Once.” Ryan replied. “Guess what, he belts like a soldier marching.” 

“Little surprise there.” Still Ondine was looking at Kendrik, her cool, gray-green eyes perfectly beautiful and unreadable. “But maybe you’ve tried the wrong songs.” 

“I did what little classics he knows,” Ryan told her, a little note of annoyance creeping into his usual professionalism. “But if you want, I can get you your guitar.”

“Yes, please, Ryan, that would be nice.” 

Ryan nodded and left the room, while Ondine remained on the stage, circling Kendrik with measured steps like a shark seizing up a potential prey. 

“You are a riddle to me, you know that?” she finally said. 

“And why is that?”

“You pretend to be a soldier, but not a pet, and yet you try to learn being a pet for a Master you should hate.” Now a fine smile crept into her face, lightening up her features for the first time. “You act as if nothing here concerns or scares you, and yet, when you think you are unobserved, you worry and care about and for everyone here.”

Finally, she stopped in front of Kendrik, her expression at the same time fondly happy and deeply sad. 

“I will not ask you why. We all have our stories here. But I can see you are one of the good guys, and I know how hard this must be on you. You still have a heart, and those with a heart can touch others’.” Raising a finger for emphasis and gently tapping his chest above his heart, she added: “Never think you’re just a fucktoy. You’re quite special.”

Not sure what to make of Ondine’s sudden confession, Kendrik decided not to say anything. Instead, he gave her a shy smile, hoping it would look grateful. Did she suspect anything? Did she feel that he was much more than a pet sent here for training?

Luckily, that was also the moment Ryan returned with her guitar. 

“Here you go, Mistress.” he said, handing her the heavy case. “Anything else you need?”

“A chair,” she replied, pointing at the stage. “And proper lighting. Centre spot, nothing else.”

Wordlessly, Ryan nodded and produced two high bar-chairs from behind the scenes. He handed them to Kendrik and then disappeared again behind the curtains to rearrange the lights the way Ondine had asked him to. 

Silently, Kendrik watched her take the guitar out of its case. What an odd woman, he wondered. Cold and professional one moment, and smart and sensitive, almost vulnerable another. 

Right then, she turned around, smiling when she noticed Kendrik watching her. 

“You can dress now,” she said pointing at the pile of clothes Kendrik had left at the edge of the stage. “It’ll make it easier for you, I think.”

Grateful, Kendrik nodded. At first, running around naked all the time had felt very surreal. He had never felt shy or self-conscious around his comrades. But here, among all these beautiful people that constantly judged his body, it was a different thing. He was getting used to it, though. As long as he had anything to do, he hardly minded by now. But standing around, being about to be tested once again for something he hardly understood, he was grateful for any kind of clothing. Even if it was just gray sweatpants and a tight white t-shirt. 

“Alright.” Ondine declared as she slipped onto the chair with much more elegance than the guitar in her hands and the tight skirt around her thighs should have allowed. “Do you know ‘Moradi Nights’, Kendrik?”

“No, Mistress.” he replied truthfully. 

He had been to the opera a few times with Yaden, to some clubs with Teagan and Myriam kept him well-informed about what was supposedly ‘hot’ right now. But that didn’t even scratch the vast musical repertoire of the Empire. And he sure as hell wouldn’t suggest one of the songs of his home. 

“I’ll sing it for you then, first. The text is simple, but it’s the emotion that is important. Try to connect.” 

Kendrik nodded, sitting down on the stage, cross-legged, while Ryan settled somewhere in the dark audience. 

Ondine started playing, and it hardly surprised Kendrik that she was actually very good at it. With a few notes, she seemed to get herself in the mood, as if trying to forget where she was. To Kendrik, it almost seemed she imagined herself sitting on the tiny stage of some shady pub somewhere, wreathed in cigarette smoke and the hushed murmur of patrons at the bar. 

Together with the lighting she had ordered Ryan to arrange, it was a fantasy Kendrik could share effortlessly. 

When she started to sing, though, Kendrik couldn’t help but give a startled blink. Of course she had a nicely trained voice, but it was surprisingly deep and a little smoky, with a melancholic quality that didn’t seem to fit with the flawlessly professional person she displayed in public. 

All but mesmerized, he listened to her, and soon it was clear why she had picked this particular song for Kendrik to try. It was about a craftsman from Del’Morad who had left home for work, and even despite everything going well, he found no happiness, his heart still longing for his home. In his words, even though he had found friends and riches abroad, the only thing of worth to him were his memories of the starlit nights on Del’Morad, of the ‘Moradi Nights’. 

Of course that dangerous woman had to pick a song about homesickness, Kendrik grumbled inwardly. Of course he would be able to relate to that. Uncalled for, memories of his family rose in Kendrik, of his elder sister and his mother, of their home on Dawn when they were still children. 

Looking up to Ondine, Kendrik realized she was looking at him, and giving him the tiniest of encouraging smiles. So she had guessed his feelings all the time, and gambled on picking a song that he wouldn’t ‘belt out like a soldier marching’. Well, she was right in one way at least, he was perfectly able to immerse himself in the mood of the song. Kendrik was sure he wasn’t a good singer, but he certainly wouldn’t be called out for lack of trying. 

So when she started repeating the refrain for the third time, Kendrik joined her. Softly at first, then a little stronger as he started feeling confident with the text. Smiling, Ondine repeated the refrain again, and this time, Kendrik rose to his feet and walked over to the two stairs standing in the spotlight, joining her. They went through the refrain two more times before Ondine finished with a flourish, smiling with grim satisfaction. 

For a moment, they looked at each other silently, until Ryan’s applause reminded them that they were not alone.

“I stand humbled, Mistress Ondine,” he remarked, sounding more amused than humbled. “It seems there’s more to our giant baby than I would have given him credit for.”

“I had a feeling that sad and longing might suit him more.” Ondine replied, still smiling and holding her guitar as if looking forward to playing another song together with Kendrik. “Do you think you can take it from here and get him presentable in a week?”

“A week?” Ryan exclaimed in the darkness beyond the spotlight. “I’ll try my best, Mistress.”

“You’re not seriously thinking of letting me sing publicly?” Kendrik asked as he realized what the two were talking about. “I know you’re desperate, but don’t you have a reputation to uphold?”

Now finally, Ondine laughed out loud. 

“I don’t know who told you that you can’t sing, Kendrik, but they were wrong. You’re actually quite good. Not suited for the opera, sure, but for some seedy establishment with a small variety show it’ll be quite the stunner.”

“You’re kidding...”

“Ondine is never kidding,” Ryan replied flatly. “I thought you’d know that by now.”

Jumping up from the dark audience into the light on the stage, Ryan stepped up to Kendrik, his index finger raised admonishingly. 

“And apart from that, young man, I think we have stern talking to do. Who was that person I could see in your walk, just a moment ago? When you walked up to Ondine, singing and for once not thinking about how other people see you?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about...”

“So I didn’t just imagine that.” Ondine chimed in, this time with a slightly amazed tone in her voice. “You looked... graceful.”

She pronounced the last word as if it held some special significance, but Ryan just nodded emphatically. 

“He’s got it.” Kendrik wasn’t sure, but it almost sounded as if Ryan was a little envious. “I can’t believe it, but he’s got it.”

“I got what?” Kendrik asked, feeling somewhat left out of a joke on him. 

“Grace.” Ondine replied laconically and slipped off her chair, once again looking much more elegant than her dress or the situation could allow for. 

“I’ll show you,” Ryan offered in a friendlier tone. 

While Ondine packed her guitar, Ryan sat down on the stage where Kendrik had been sitting. When he rose again, he was effortlessly mimicking Kendrik’s earlier movements, though Kendrik was hard pressed to say that it looked any special to him. 

Again Ryan laughed amiably at Kendrik’s clueless expression. 

“You really don’t see it, do you?” Ryan asked, adding: “Here. When you walked up to the chair, look at what your feet did. It looks almost as if you were dancing, the way you paused with the tip of your toe straight down.”

Again, the movements Ryan showed him made little sense to Kendrik, and especially didn’t feel like anything he’d ever do voluntarily, let alone subconsciously. Only when he tried to run through the motions again, he realized what he had been doing. 

Ryan was right, there had indeed been a time when Kendrik had been dancing. Long, long before he was a soldier of the Scilla elite forces, before he had even wanted to be a soldier, things had been different. 

As a small boy, he had always watched his mother train. Kendrik vividly remembered the brightly lit mirrored wall, a bar in front of it, scratchy music playing from an old recorder. His petite mother dancing, in her faded outfits and threadbare pointe shoes, with the rosy light of Caelius’ sun slanting through the large windows.   
He couldn’t remember ever going to one of her performances as a child, but he could effortlessly recall himself sitting there in the corner of the room, underneath the baby grand piano, entranced by the beauty of his mother’s dance as only a child could be. 

He couldn’t remember, though, why he had stopped wanting to become a ballet dancer himself. 

“Whatever that thought is, try to keep it safe.” Ondine suddenly said right next to him, so softly it sounded like she was trying to keep a secret. “It makes you look radiant.”

A little embarrassed, Kendrik gave her an incredulous look, but she only smiled and nodded. 

“Build on it,” she whispered, “and one day the Secret Garden will pay you to teach our youngsters.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kendrik has to ‘perform’ for customers – and learns new and rather unnerving things about his colleagues, the patrons and himself…

From his dark corner, Kendrik observed tonight’s patrons of the Secret Garden. Not all of them, of course. Just the few that were in the same room with him. 

Modeled to look like a seedy strip club, complete with runway and poles and booths with plastic-covered seats, it was one of the countless pocket universes within the Secret Garden. There were countless of those pockets, one for every desire and credit line. As long as you paid, the Secret Garden delivered unquestioningly, unfailingly. Kendrik had to admire the professionalism of the whole thing, if nothing else. 

There was about a dozen customers scattered across the room, sitting in the half-dark of the booths or leaning at the bar, most of them nursing drinks, smoking tobacco or dakka and watching the show on the stage with half a mind. Currently, the show consisted of two women in lingerie languidly dancing to some scratchy music, nothing that demanded too much attention from the customers. But apparently, it was just what they wanted. A shady hole to hang out and be mostly ignored, maybe occasionally groping one of the pretty waiters and waitresses. The whole setup exuded an air of relaxed debauchery, a gentle indulgence after a gluttony of vices. 

Ondine, once again, had guessed right about how to approach the next step of his training. 

He was inside the Secret Garden for eleven days now. Kendrik had spent his days learning how to be a whore, and his nights learning how to be a spy. Not that he had done much spying, so far. Mostly, he had spent his concentration on learning how to get his mind accustomed to the toxic background radiation of the Secret Garden. He had to be able to scan other people within this environment without crippling himself in the process. It was as if he was trying to listen for a specific sound while trying not to hear specific others. Tricky, but not impossible. 

So when Ondine suggested he was ready to start ‘entertaining’ in this particular environment, Kendrik had been silently pleased. It was a relatively easy place to start listening outwards, the background radiation not as violently toxic as almost everywhere else, boredom and satiation somewhat blunting the feelings of hopelessness, fear and pain and lust. 

“Hey, it’s you! What are you doing here?” 

It took Kendrik a moment to realize that someone had asked him a question. He had thought himself mostly invisible, quite expertly hiding in a dark corner by the stage. But apparently, that hadn’t been enough to fool Luca. The boy was standing right next to him, carrying a tray with empty glasses and the shorts and staff shirt that were the uniform of the fake strip club. 

He looked dazzling, Kendrik thought before everything else, slightly mesmerized at the way Luca balanced the tray on one hand, the other one saucily resting on his hip. And he looked so godawfully young! 

“Are you here for my performance?” 

“Hi Luca,” Kendrik finally managed to say. “Your performance?”

“Yep, I’m part of the next number.” 

“That’s great! What are you doing?” 

“Clive’s going to beat me up and rape me.”

“What?!” Once again, Kendrik could have slapped himself for asking. When would he learn not to ask questions he didn’t want to hear the answer to? “But why would he do such a thing?”

“Because he has to? It’s Tuesday,” Luca replied with a horrifying lack of sarcasm. “It’s quite something to have a regular show at my age already.” 

“That’s... great.” Kendrik managed to press out. “Really looking forward.”

“You’re such a miserable liar!” Luca chided him with a big smile, winking at him. “Will you be performing tonight, too?” 

“Yes.” Still reeling with the shock, Kendrik heard himself talking as if on autopilot. “Mistress Ondine wanted me to sing ‘Moradi Nights’ and a few others, at least until the customers will start throwing things at me.” 

“Oh, cool.” Luca seemed genuinely impressed. “We rarely have real performances here, you know, like, artsy stuff. The acting’s quite good, sometimes, but the rest... It looks like a good night for that, too. Mostly burnouts and geezers in the audience. They might actually like it.” 

“Thanks.” Kendrik replied flatly. This boy was going to be beaten and fucked by a guy he hated, and still he was trying to cheer up Kendrik who he thought was suffering from stage fright? Something was seriously wrong here. “Will you be around to hear me sing?”

Luca seemed genuinely happy about the question. The smile that grew on his face was one of the most beautiful things Kendrik had ever seen, as brilliant as a shooting star on a sky of midnight blue. “I’ll try. If the doctors let me go, I promise I’ll be watching from the sidelines.”

“That would be nice.” Disregarding everything else, Kendrik was really looking forward to see if Luca like his performance, and he even managed a tiny smile that was returned just in kind by Luca. 

“Gotta rush,” the boy quipped, hesitating a moment before rising on tip toes and planting a tiny kiss on Kendrik’s cheek. “Break a leg!”

“Break a leg!” Kendrik replied automatically. And before he could think of anything smart to say, Luca had already dashed off, cleaning tables and looking like a perfect cheap waiter in this perfect cheap club. 

There was something tempting, something seductive about the fake realities the Secret Garden offered, Kendrik suddenly realized. He had never had a penchant for any kind of kinky play when it came to sex. But in here, he suddenly began to understand at least one facet of the allure. Wouldn’t it be just so much easier if Luca were just a waiter, and he just the singer in a seedy strip club, somewhere way off the maps where they didn’t talk about slaves and winterlisting? Where ‘probably sixteen’ would be ‘just old enough’? There was an undeniable temptation to that dreamworld. 

Smiling wistfully, Kendrik slid back deeper into the shadows of the stage. 

Of course, that didn’t change anything. Luca was young, way too young, and working in a brothel that offered its whores to be murdered as a regular part of their menu. It was sick, debased, horrifying. Trying to find anything good or even bearable in this whole situation would not lead to anything good, Kendrik told himself firmly. The Phoenix Empire wasn’t his home, even if his husbands lived here. 

But was the Scilla Republic so much better? Really? 

It was a place where psions like him were hunted down and enslaved, treated like chess pieces in the murderous games of their senators. Everyone tried to appear civilized, but as soon as one looked underneath the surface, it was rotten. In a way, the gleeful perversions of the Phoenix Empire seemed refreshingly honest in comparison, Kendrik found. What an unpleasant thought, though. 

Suddenly, a pain-filled yell kicked Kendrik out of his brooding. 

“You stupid little shit, can’t you watch where you’re going?” 

Clive, in the middle of the room, shouting at Luca who was sitting on the floor, holding his face as if having been slapped. 

“I don’t have eyes on my back,” Luca complained with a perfectly credible mix of anger and surprise. “And if you trip over a waiter, maybe that’s a sign you’ve had enough tonight.”

With an unintelligible howl of rage, Clive grabbed Luca by his flimsy shirt and pulled him off the floor, only to slap him so hard that the boy was spun around and crumbled at the base of the stage. 

For an instant, Kendrik had to fight the urge to rush forward and place himself between Clive and Luca. But he could feel clearly that Luca wasn’t afraid, in contrary, he was highly concentrated and putting on a show. That boy was the most talented actor Kendrik had ever seen. If it hadn’t been for his emotions - 

And with a slightly startled sound, Kendrik realized that he was reading Luca’s emotions. Of course, a connection to Luca was ridiculously easy, but it still surprised Kendrik that he didn’t feel more of the background radiation in their connection. It was still there, but it felt muted, as if Kendrik was familiar enough to it by now that he could filter it out from whatever signal he was actually looking for. 

Right now, that signal was Luca, his focus on putting on a perfect performance, as it was the only thing that kept Kendrik from walking over there and breaking a few of Clive’s bones. 

With mute fascination, Kendrik watched as Clive pulled up Luca once again, shaking him until his shirt ripped. Luca was bleeding from his nose, just few drops, but in the pale glare of the lights in front of the stage, it all but screamed on his pale skin. 

“Hey, you.” Another waiter had appeared next to Kendrik, looking a little bored. “Baron Yuri wants to see you.” 

He pointed at one of the dark booths along the other wall.

“I am just here to sing,” Kendrik explained defensively, struggling to ignore the screams coming from the stage. “My master wants me to remain untouched.” 

“He knows,” the waiter replied with a slightly annoyed frown. “Now go, don’t let him wait.” 

Taking a deep breath, Kendrik considered his options. Not many, if he wanted to keep his cover intact. If the Secret Garden judged it safe for him to ‘see’ that Baron Yuri, there was a good chance it would be perfectly harmless. After all, the Duke had paid a handsome sum for Kendrik to be kept safe. And so far, the Secret Garden always delivered. 

And besides, anything was better than standing here watching Luca getting raped, even if it was just for show. 

“Of course,” Kendrik replied evenly, bowing his head as it befitted a well-trained pet. “Anything special he likes?” 

The waiter only shrugged. “He’s old as fuck, richer than the Duke of Malicorn and basically owns the dakka trade. Never wanted anything as long as I work here besides drinks.” Allowing himself a sympathetic, crooked smile, he added: “He’s really important, like, really. If you mess this up, your master will get into trouble for it.” 

Kendrik blinked in surprise at this outrageous claim. Sure, the waiter had no clue who Kendrik’s ‘master’ was, but still. In any case, someone who managed to gain a reputation of being a drugpusher kingpin here on Serin definitely was someone to be cautious of. 

“Thank you,” Kendrik said with another polite nod. “I’ll be careful.”

Squaring himself for the task, Kendrik slowly walked over to the booth the waiter had indicated. On the stage, Clive just slammed Luca over the edge, the boy wailing and pleading him to stop with heartbreaking credibility. If it hadn’t been for the sheer professionalism Kendrik could still feel from Luca, he’d have killed Clive by now. 

Arriving at the booth of Baron Yuri, Kendrik for a heartbeat was at a loss of what to do. In the dark, he could only see someone sitting there, nothing more. So in lack of a better idea, he knelt down on the ground like any good slave, keeping his eyes on his knees and waited until he was spoken to. 

On the stage, Clive busied himself pulling down Luca’s pants, laughing at the screams.

“Come up here, sit with me.” The voice from inside the booth was soft, but clear enough to be heard effortlessly, belonging to a man who was used to give orders and used to having them obeyed instantly. 

Doing as he was told, Kendrik slipped onto the seats of the booth, picking the side that obscured his view of the stage. The less he saw of this, the less he was tempted to fuck it all and just kill Clive. 

“Closer.” Again, Baron Yuri’s voice this time was accompanied by a tiny but unmistakable pat on the plastic-covered upholstery next to him. “I want to see your face.”

Obediently, Kendrik slipped closer. 

With his eyes slowly getting used to the low light in the booth, he would make out more and more details of Baron Yuri. Of average height, he must have been quite athletic and broad-shouldered in his youth. Now he was visibly old, his remaining hair a short white fringe around the back of his head, his old-fashioned Dracon uniform bulging over a stately belly. 

Kendrik couldn’t make out much of his face, but he was sure the other man was studying him closely. 

“Where do you come from?” Baron Yuri finally asked. 

“Guild Central,” Kendrik gave him the official version he was supposed to use with customers. “Breeding facility.”

“Habichtswald stock?” 

Kendrik had already heard that name before, the name of the Noble House that had ruled the Empire before the Dracon took over. The thought that they were considered a viable choice for breeding slaves was chilling. 

“Not that I know of, master.” 

“And why should you,” Baron Yuri replied kindly, completely oblivious of how patronizing he was. “Who’s your owner?”

“I don’t know his name. But I am to call him ‘the Duke’, master.” 

At the mention of the name, Baron Yuri snarled with disgust. 

“Your owner and I have a certain business history, the two of us... But don’t worry, dear, I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

“That’s so generous of you,” Kendrik replied, but instead of the intended meek gratitude, all that came out was spiteful snark. He really had to work on his acting skills. 

“Oh, you’re a sassy one, aren’t you?” Baron Yuri seemed more amused than insulted. “I like that. Come, sit next to me while I watch the show.”

Again, he patted the upholstery next to him, and this time Kendrik forced himself to act all meek. So he slipped next to the old Dracon baron who took Kendrik’s hand and started stroking it, absent-mindedly. 

Together with the whimpers and painful yelps that by now were coming from the stage, it was a weird setup. At least, Kendrik wasn’t able to see what Clive was doing to Luca right now, Luca’s professional concentration being the only thing he noticed via his supernatural senses. Although, the more Kendrik listened inwards, the more he noticed that the physical contact to Baron Yuri allowed him to scan the old man, too. 

And what an old man that was, Kendrik noted with silent amazement. Not old as in ‘near the end of his life’, he was that, too, but also he had a mind so large and stable that it spoke of many, many years of experiences, of centuries lived.

In Kendrik’s home of the Scilla Republic, everyone lived about two hundred years, due to their widely available technology. Here, in the Phoenix Empire, with their medical technology reserved strictly for the nobility and research hampered until only recently by the church, finding a man who had lived for so long was a rare thing indeed. 

But Baron Yuri was also old in the other sense of the word. 

He was a man with experiences spanning many decades, but his emotions were running flat. Like dying embers struggling to create a last flame, his feelings never amounted to more than mild amusement or dislike. For some reason, seeing Kendrik had filled him with a bout of melancholia, and even though it made him somewhat unhappy, it was still better than the seen-it-all boredom he usually felt. 

A faint pain suddenly brought Kendrik back to his physical senses. 

Baron Yuri had gripped Kendrik’s wrist, absent-mindedly driving his thumbnail into the soft spot where the nerves were passing. Through their empathic connection, Kendrik realized that Yuri was just inflicting pain because that’s what he always did, his way of kindling a reaction out of any slave. There was no evil intention, no dark lust, just habit and the complete lack of any moral compunction. Old Dracon were an ugly thing for sure. 

With a sharp movement, Kendrik tried to pull his arm away. But much to his surprise, Yuri held on tightly with a force that seemed absolutely unfitting for his physical shape and mental state. But he held Kendrik’s arm firmly in place on his lap, and while he seemed unmoving outwardly, Kendrik could see and feel that now he had triggered Baron Yuri’s interest. 

“You’re not a slave.” The baron’s eyes were suddenly alive and sparkling in the low light. “At least, you don’t see yourself as one.” 

For a moment, Kendrik was tempted to reply something defusing. But he knew he wasn’t good enough an actor to fool someone who had survived at the center of the Serin drug cartels for so long. So he just shut up and stared at Yuri, which merely created an increased interest and even a faint spark of lust. 

“Tell your owner I have a proposal for him.” Baron Yuri said finally. “Tell him I want to buy you, and he can pick the price.” 

For the first time since many years, Kendrik felt actually scared. Not that there was any chance in hell that anyone would sell him for any price. But he felt that Yuri was absolutely sincere in his offer. Considering that this was what he did for ‘mild interest’ and ‘a spark of lust’, Kendrik inwardly blanched at what this man would be capable of doing if genuinely incited. The waiter had been absolutely right. This was a truly dangerous man. 

Luckily, Yuri then turned his attention back to the happenings in front of the stage, where by the sounds of it, Clive had just finished his ‘punishment’ and was doing up his trousers. 

Kendrik found himself tempted to see if Clive had enjoyed his ‘performance’. But as soon as he tried to contact his mind, the searing cold void of despair that filled the ether in the Secret Garden reminded him that he was still far from safe. Reaching for the mind of someone he was in physical contact with, like Baron Yuri, worked nicely. Luca was so close to Kendrik’s mind already that he would be able to contact him across half the empire. But anyone else was still hidden behind a screen of centuries of toxic emotions. 

There was still a lot of work to be done before he would be able to come up with any useful information for the Emperor. 

“Milord?” A waiter appeared at their booth, bowing in deep deference usually reserved for royalty. “The slave you’re sitting with was scheduled to perform now. Would you like me to rearrange tonight’s performances or would you like him to perform?”

Yuri looked over to Kendrik, his curiosity now trigged for good. “You ‘perform’? What are you doing?” 

“I am singing.”

“You?!” Baron Yuri seemed genuinely surprised and let go of Kendrik’s hand, effectively breaking their empathic connection. “What songs?”

A few days ago, Kendrik would have whole-heartedly agreed with Yuri’s skepticism. But by now he was reasonably sure he would be able to put on a good performance, even for such jaded audience as this one. 

“I’m supposed to do ‘Moradi Nights’, ‘Dushinka’ and some others. If you allow me to, that is. Milord.”

Yuri had to laugh out loud at Kendrik’s absolutely un-meek tone. “Do you accept requests?”

“No.” With grim amusement, Kendrik noticed the waiter flinching away from them, wordless with horror at Kendrik’s open refusal. “Be nice and I might reconsider.” 

Again, Baron Yuri laughed, but it wasn’t a nice sound. “Don’t overplay your hand, little one. You ARE just a slave, after all.”

“And yet I have something that reminds you of a time when you weren’t already dead inside.” Kendrik’s retort was out faster than he could think, and he was just too angry to care. “Maybe after all these years, it’s time for a different approach.” 

Considering their situation, Baron Yuri would have had all the right to just shoot Kendrik there and then. But the old Dracon didn’t do anything, he just stared at Kendrik with narrow eyes, stunned out of words. 

“With your permission,” Kendrik said into the silence, sketching a bow. “I’m expected on stage.”

Still Baron Yuri didn’t react, and so Kendrik slid out of their booth, half expecting a blaster shot into his back. But nothing happened. Kendrik just walked on, past the other patrons of the bar and jumped right onto the stage where already a stool and a microphone were waiting under a single spotlight. 

On the edge of the stage, a smear of blood and semen was glittering, a vile reminder of what had just happened here. But inside the glaring cone of the spotlight, it was easy enough to ignore. 

Kendrik could feel Luca close by, exhausted and a little bit in pain, but very satisfied with his performance and full of anticipation. Oddly enough, Kendrik could also feel Baron Yuri in the dark, a quivering mass of loss and sadness. Almost, it made Kendrik feel sorry. But Yuri was still an evil old man who tortured slaves out of boredom. Suited him right. 

“Hi, I am Kendrik,” he said into the microphone, probing, startled at the sound of his voice. “I am to sing for you. Hope you like it.”

He was supposed to start with ‘Moradi Nights’, but Kendrik was feeling way too angry to sing about homesickness. He was disgusted, worried, appalled at this place and his emotions had to go somewhere. So he decided he’d start with ‘Dushinka’, a lament of an Espener parent about his ‘disgraced’ daughter. She had been tricked into giving her virginity to a handsome stranger and was now sitting at the window all day, crying and hoping for his return in vain. Considering how Espener stories went, the parent had to be well aware that his daughter was about to kill herself, and there was nothing he could do. The horrified helplessness was something he could really, really relate to right now. 

Giving the stagehand a signal, Kendrik waited until the music started, using the moment to wrangle his long hair neatly over one shoulder. The smoke in the air curled around him in the bright light, and all considered, Kendrik felt confident he’d be able to pull this off. 

When the music started, he waited for his cue, and just started singing. Kendrik tried not to think too much about it, singing mostly to himself, pouring his emotions into the song. Line by line, he felt himself a little more grounded again, the horrors of this place taking a step back into the darkness, leaving him alone on the stage with his song. 

He was already halfway through the song as Kendrik noticed something entirely unexpected. 

Like flowers in the dark, the minds of his audience slowly opened to him, one by one blossoming in the toxic void all around. Somehow, they found his performance touching enough, his presence so fascinating that they went into a sort of resonance with him, relaying the emotions of his own song back to him, creating a mundane connection that he could ‘ride’ with his psionic senses. 

Suddenly, he could feel himself sitting there on the stage through their eyes, an oddly masculine beauty with mesmerizing hair, his voice untrained but deep and resonant and so full of real emotions it had managed to kick the numbed audience out of their overfed stupor. 

They thought he was an artist. 

Much too soon, the song was over. But Kendrik felt that the effect seemed to linger. Almost grinning with fascination, he realized that he had literally enthralled his audience. 

He signaled the stagehand to continue with ‘Moradi Nights’, and this time, he could feel a wave of excitement run through his audience as they recognized the song after the first notes. A little more confident, Kendrik this time tried to consciously project his emotions through his song, and even though it was nothing but a totally mundane thing, it worked almost better than his psionic abilities. As if the whole room was feeling with him, they were suddenly longing for something they had lost in the past, something they held dear even though it seemed unreachable now. 

Kendrik felt his heart pound in his throat with excitement. This was... awesome. 

The song finished much too soon as well, but this time one of the patrons rapped his glass against the table a few times, something that passed as applause in this establishment. Considering that usually, nothing that happened on the stage elicited any kind of reaction from the customers, Kendrik’s performance was a raging success already. 

But he really didn’t intent on leaving it at that, not even by far. 

Feeling slightly bolder, he told the stagehand that he was going to try ‘Saber Dance’, a song about a Cournicova man having duel noble women for his affections, while secretly having affairs with whomever he pleased. It was passionate, dark and just a little bit naughty, with a thumping beat that was nicely evocative of a duel being fought with sabers in the light of a large bonfire. But it was also quite subversive and uplifting, and it was something this rotten place direly needed. 

So when the patrons in the dark reacted with mild surprise at his choice of song, Kendrik indulged in a smirk that he hoped would look promising. His connection with the audience by now was strong enough that he could actually tailor his expression to their reactions, fine-tuning his performance in a sort of feedback loop that only he could influence. 

Not really reflecting on what he was doing, Kendrik just continued his performance, singing, getting a feeling of his newfound skill. Somewhere in the deep corners of his mind, he realized that he probably wasn’t able to clearly distinguish between his own intentions and what the audience wanted him to do, connected as they currently were. But he didn’t really care, it was like a rush, like a drug, perfect, powerful. 

When the song came to the point where it became clear that the Cournicova was playing his potential wifes against each other to have a little fun on the side, Kendrik could literally feel the dirty grins on the audience’s faces, the emotional smog of overindulgence all but forgotten. 

But the clean, healthy emotions didn’t last long. Hand-in-hand, there were bitter, searing spikes of desire in the audience’s reaction, driving into Kendrik’s mind like migraine, almost causing him to break off. 

He managed to shield himself well enough after a heartbeat or two, but it still served as a clear warning to him. Those were sick people down there in the dark. As soon as he had reached a certain level of desirability in their eyes, some of them were overwhelmed by the urge to destroy him. Their way of admiring beauty was to defile and corrupt it with all the pain and suffering they were able to inflict. 

For a moment, Kendrik felt compelled to stop his performance there and then. This was getting too dangerous. What if several of them ganged up and tried to ‘worship’ him right there on the stage? He’d endanger everything he had been working for here. 

But then he realized that he was still in a feedback loop with his audience, even if it was muted through his shields. He wasn’t afraid of them. It was them wanting him to be afraid. 

Once again, he had made a perfect beginner’s mistake and made someone else’s emotions his own. Kendrik grimaced inwardly, anger roiling up like a thunderstorm, bolstering his defenses and filling him with resolve. He would never allow someone else choose how he saw himself ever again. He had been afraid and ashamed for most of his life. 

Never again. 

When the song ran out, Kendrik smiled politely at the ‘applause’ that now came from several tables in the dark. 

“Thank you,” he said into the microphone, smirking at the individual patrons that he could feel in his mind rather than see them with his eyes. “You are very kind, I hope I will be allowed to perform again here, another night.” 

His audience was just as hooked on him as he was on them. The sudden reminder that his performance might end and might never happen again sent a jolt of disagreement through them. Using what little of his psionic muscle he could use, Kendrik rammed that feeling into their minds, driving home the point that his performance, those feelings they experienced while he was performing, were something to be cherished, hopefully repeated, and therefore to be protected. Protected from themselves and all the other predators that lurked in the dark of the Secret Garden.

“My last song for tonight will be ‘In his arms’, I think you all know that one.” 

Nodding to the stagehand, Kendrik settled a little more comfortably on his stool, waiting for his cue. ‘In his Arms’ was an old imperial love song, about how the singer couldn’t manage to be a cynic in his lover’s arms, how he couldn’t be worried any longer and the only feelings left were of joy and trust in their mutual future. Most importantly, ‘In his Arms’ had been very popular in the last great war of the Empire, and now carried the cultural connotation of soldiers longing for peace and reunion with their loved ones. 

When he started singing, Kendrik had to struggle not to smile widely. It seemed he had managed to inoculate his audience properly – hardly any dark desires any longer, no urge to defile something beautiful and rare. Interest, and joy at his performance was all he could feel from them. Some of them were even startled, realizing for the first time in their lives what ‘In his Arms’ was actually about, for the first time understanding the emotional payload of the song. 

Using the song almost like plaster to fixate the emotions he had planted in his audience’s minds, Kendrik slowly realized what a powerful tool he had discovered tonight. Usually, empathic manipulations had to be constantly maintained by the psion, or they would weather away in a matter of minutes, instantly if they were emotions that were completely foreign to the target. But right now, Kendrik was barely using his psionic powers, only passively to read his audience. Their wish to see him perform again had been theirs already, he had only enforced it with his powers and now cemented it with a perfectly mundane song. 

If Kendrik wasn’t completely mistaken, this wasn’t psionics. This was mundane emotional manipulation of the highest degree, undetectable for another psion. He had hardly done anything supernatural, only used his powers to grant him insights how to use his mundane skills. Those feelings of protectiveness he had planted would not change any differently from real ones, because for all that mattered, those feelings WERE real. 

The possibilities of this were staggering. 

The song ended, and this time, there was actual applause. Not long, nothing too excited. But for this place, it was an unheard of reaction. 

Smiling, Kendrik smiled one last time, took a deep bow and walked off the stage, the emotional connection to his audience fraying and dissolving as soon as he was out of sight. 

Only a few steps behind the curtain, Luca was waiting for him, his face swollen and red, but his expression wide-eyed and beaming. Had the boy been caught in his spell, too, Kendrik wondered. Probably. 

“That was fucking great!” Luca exclaimed, applauding softly so he wouldn’t be overheard outside. “Oh god, that was magic!” 

“Yeah,” Kendrik replied, flushed and still insecure about what exactly had just happened. “That went quite well, I think, didn’t it?”

“You’re lucky you’re still alive.” Mistress Ondine’s voice cut through the backstage darkness like a knife. “What the hell did you think you were doing?” 

“Performing?” 

“I have only once in my life seen someone play an audience like that.” Ondine made it sound like an accusation. “And she was a goddamn A class guild courtesan.” 

“I... just tried my best, mistress.” Kendrik knew he had royally fucked up in this regard. No former soldier should be able to pull off something like that. Had he really just turned a room of potentially murderous Dracon into loyal and protective fans? “Maybe I am a natural?”

“You’re an enigma.” Taking a deep breath, she obviously decided not to pursue this matter any further, at least not here and now. “Baron Yuri filed a formal request to buy you from your owner. And that was after you insulted him in public.”

“Oh my god!” Luca whispered, shocked. “But he can’t have him, right? You owner won’t sell you, Kendrik, yes?”

“Let us all pray that your master wants nothing Baron Yuri can offer,” Ondine replied before Kendrik could open his mouth. “Though I severely doubt that is even possible.”

Yuri had offered to buy him AFTER he had insulted him? But all the time, he had felt nothing but sadness and longing from the old Dracon, not vengefulness. This all didn’t make sense. 

“I don’t think my owner will sell me,” Kendrik said, mostly to reassure Luca. “He and Baron Yuri have some sort of history, and I think my owner will rather spite him than sell me for money.”

That seemed to vaguely calm Luca’s worries, while Ondine raised her hands defensively. 

“That is one of those things we at the Secret Garden prefer to remain absolutely oblivious about.” Now clasping her hands, Ondine nodded. “At least, we two now have our work cut out for us, don’t we?” 

“Work?”

“Putting together a full show for you. After that number you just pulled off out there, they will be expecting a proper performance of you tomorrow evening. Let’s just hope you’re a fast learner.” Smiling mirthlessly, she added: “You started feeding the dragons, dear. Now you gotta keep them fed, or they will come back and devour you whole.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together with some of his ‘colleagues’, Kendrik plans his first proper show after last night’s success…

“Oh my god, you should have seen him!” Luca gushed much to Kendrik’s discomfort. “They were spellbound, I tell you, spellbound. I have heard Baron Yuri was seen crying, can you believe that?”

The last part was new to Kendrik, and it didn’t feel good. After all, they were talking about an extremely rich and well connected Dracon here, and definitely someone who wasn’t going to take things like this lightly. 

“Actually I can’t.” Mia gestured with her spoon. “Baron Yuri is old as a rock and about as soft. No feelings in that one.”

“Maybe it was an allergic reaction?” Ryan added with an evil grin, laughing at his own joke. 

They were sitting together in the bright and cheerful canteen of the Secret Garden, having lunch together as if they were working in some average office, an not in the most depraved brothel on Serin. 

Kendrik had come here with Ryan after they had spent the better part of the morning trying to piece together enough content to at least offer a small show tonight. They had wanted to sit down and talk through some songs that Ryan was thinking were suitable additions to his repertoire. 

But as soon as they had picked their food and were searching for a place to sit, Luca had spotted them. He had already been sitting in one of the spring-green booths, together with a beautiful brunette girl of barely twenty years. And of course, Luca had insisted that they joined them, and was now telling the story of Kendrik’s raging success last night in the ‘strip club’ in ever growing proportions. 

At least, Mia was quite realistic about the importance of one tiny performance here, a fact that Kendrik was profoundly grateful for. She seemed like a smart young thing altogether, only all the more reason for Kendrik to feel irritated by the long, dark bruise that ran along her jawline and spread onto her throat in the distinct pattern of two hands choking her. The brightly lit, cheerfully spring-colored décor of the place didn’t help one bit to ignore how abused she looked. 

“Didn’t Baron Yuri offer to buy you?” she asked, now using her spoon to scrape the last bits of ice cream from the bottom of her bowl. 

“He did.” Kendrik replied. “But I don’t think my owner’s going to sell. He’ll much more enjoy rattling Yuri’s cage.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Ryan added, still chewing on the last bits of his steak. “Baron Yuri has his ways. I think he’ll let your owner think he’s playing him for a while, and then he’ll make him an offer he can’t reject. One way or another.”

“No.” Wide-eyed but very firm, Luca shook his head, softly laying a protective hand on Kendrik’s shoulder. “He won’t give his beloved pet to that old fart.” 

Normally, Kendrik would have laughed at this oddly sentimental view, especially as he knew that he wouldn’t be sold, no matter how powerful and important Baron Yuri was. But the moment Luca’s hand touched his arm and brought their auras into direct contact, Kendrik found himself flooded with the boy’s emotions despite his best attempts not to. 

Like dark blue wings with silver tips, Luca’s protectiveness wrapped around Kendrik’s mind, his worry like a cold winter wind he was shielding him from. It was such an honest and clear emotion that, for a heartbeat, Kendrik found himself completely immersed in the imagery. 

But Ryan snapping his fingers right in front of Kendrik’s face brought him out of it instantly. 

“Kendrik? Are you okay? What the hell was that, you were completely phased out.”

“Sorry.” Taking a deep breath to gain a second or two to think, Kendrik wondered what would be a probable excuse among whores. “Bad memories. Happens occasionally, nothing serious.”

“We all got those.” Mia replied matter-of-factly, and apparently considered the matter closed. “So do you already know where you are going to perform?” 

“Not really. For one, I hardly know all the options, and I am really new to the business, so Ryan and I - “

“At first I thought of the opera,” Ryan interjected. “But that’s not nearly personal enough for his style.”

“The red-and-gold one?” Luca asked, excited. “What a shame, the colors there would have fit his hair perfectly...”

“My thought exactly. But he needs something more intimate, as questionable as the strip club, but classier.” 

Thoughtful silence fell around their table, each one thinking about a potential location for Kendrik to perform while finishing their respective lunches. 

Food here was exceptionally good, Kendrik had to admit. Not quite as good as what his husbands cooked at home, but pretty damn good, still. Actually, there had been days in the Army of the Scilla Republic when he would have given an arm and a leg to have this kind of food in their mess hall. It was simple fare, some grilled meats and lots of vegetables, bread and cheeses, but all of impeccable quality and perfectly prepared. It was pretty delicious.

Once again, the Secret Garden showed that there was a reason that this establishment had remained on the top of the food chain for several centuries. Considering the relative luxury the staff of the Secret Garden was living in, the customers had to be paying through their noses for every smile on the other side of the curtain, Kendrik found. 

“Hey, would it be okay if I join you?” 

The voice belonged to a tall young man who had suddenly appeared right next to their table. At least as tall as Kendrik, he had bulging muscle that spoke of hard work instead of careful training, a deep tan and tousled brown curls. Together with his plain t-shirt, worn leather pants, big hands and an even bigger smile, he looked like a cardboard cut-out for a ‘healthy farmer boy’. Even Kendrik found himself smiling, the back of his mind delivering several completely unasked-for, naughty images of what one could do with such vibrantly virile company. 

“Sure, sit down.” Kendrik replied, still smiling. “I am Kendrik.”

“Hi. I am Leighton.” Reaching across the table, Leighton shook Kendrik’s hand with his own massive paw, their brief contact filling Kendrik’s mind with bright browns and greens, with fresh air and sunlight. What a welcome change. “I am new here.”

“Yeah, thought so. Well, welcome at the Secret Garden,” Kendrik replied. Only now he noticed his other companions looking rather unhappy with his decision to invite Leighton to their table, Luca looking positively queasy. Kendrik could feel a weird discomfort from the boy sitting next to him, as if he had a long and guilt-ridden history with Leighton. Which he couldn’t have if Leighton was new here... Kendrik decided to sort this out another time. “So where do you come from?”

“Malicorn,” Leighton replied with a distinct note of pride. “I was last year’s swine swinging champion.” 

“Really? Wow, congratulations!” Kendrik had heard a lot already about that particular tournament, and not everything he had heard had made sense to him. But it was an athletic event that drew visitors from all over the Empire, and Kendrik definitely didn’t want to appear disrespectful. Leighton sure as hell looked the part of a successful farmer and athlete, and the way he smile widely with his ridiculously white teeth made told Kendrik he had made the right decision. 

“It was just a lot of luck,” he tried to play down his achievement. “The weather was perfect and my pigs were so drowsy they almost fell asleep on their own.” 

Kendrik grinned and nodded, even though he didn’t even have the slightest idea what Leighton was talking about. Of course the swine swinging had to do something with pigs, and Kendrik was pretty sure he had seen healthy men hurling around sleeping pigs in some magazine, and some images of said men massaging those pigs, though he couldn’t have said how much of that was part of the competition. He hadn’t paid much attention to the text, anyway. 

“So, what are you doing here on Serin?” Kendrik asked, hoping to distract from his ignorance. He had barely closed his mouth when he remembered that he had sworn not to ask questions any longer here in the Secret Garden. 

“Oh, Madam Tochka invited me over, asked me to stay for a while.” Smiling with genuine, wide-eyed excitement and wonder, Leighton added: “I’ve never been on another planet before, and people here are so nice. Can you believe it? Madam Tochka paid for everything, and in turn I just have to hang around and talk to the guests about my tournament. And of course, some massages.” 

Leighton’s cheerfulness at this whole sordid business was so discordant that Kendrik had to blink. 

“Massages?”

“Yes, of course.” Wriggling his strong hands, he added: “I’m usually only working on my pigs, you know, to help them relax. But it seems to work nicely on people, too. At least they all say so, but they are probably just too kind to tell me the truth here.”

Now this was getting ridiculous. Casting a sidelong glance at Luca, Kendrik noticed that the boy was quite effectively pretending to finish his lunch, but his emotions betrayed how much Leighton filled him with disgust, horror and sadness in equal measures. Ryan and Mia seemed to feel pretty much the same, at least by the looks of them, while Leighton seemed to notice their discomfort only now. 

“I am sorry if I did anything wrong,” he said, his face showing genuine insecurity. Turning back to Kendrik, he added: “Most people here don’t like to talk to me. I don’t know why, though.”

“Neither do I...” Kendrik said, wondering what was going on here and already dreading the answer. 

“I think I’ll pick another table,” Leighton suddenly said, his voice heavy with sadness. “But it was really nice talking to you, Kendrik. Maybe we can work out together sometime, just you and me, yes?”

“Yes, that sounds good.” Kendrik replied, silently embarrassed by the fact that he was relieved that Leighton was leaving on his own, though that might also have been Luca’s relief echoing through him. “I’m looking forward to that. See you around, then.”

Leighton nodded kindly, took up his cheerfully avocado- and peach-colored tray and left for an empty booth well away. Kendrik followed him with his eyes, fighting the urge to ask what this had been all about and why his companions had been so awkward all of a sudden. He was so very sure he didn’t want to hear the answer. 

“What the hell was that about?” Kendrik blurted out, turning around to the rest of the table. “He was just trying to make friends, is that so hard to face?” 

“Oh god, I need alcohol,” Mia groaned, completely ignoring Kendrik’s question. “And quite a lot of it. Ryan, you’re coming with me?” 

Ryan nodded and started moving out of the booth, turning to Luca: “Want some, too? Vodka?” 

But Luca shook his head. “No thanks, Ryan, ice-cream will do nicely for me. But I think you should bring some for Kendrik.”

Ryan cast a swift glance between Luca and Kendrik, then nodded again and left in silence, Mia following him like a shadow. 

“Help me out, Luca. What is going on here?”

“That’s not easy to put into words...” Luca looked at Kendrik with an expression that clearly showed he would rather bury this particular subject. But through their connection, Kendrik could tell that Luca didn’t just feel uncomfortable – Luca felt like he was about to destroy one more piece of innocence he still saw in Kendrik, the same kind of feeling parents had when suddenly forced to tell their children that the tooth fairy wasn’t real. For a heartbeat, Kendrik was tempted to say he didn’t want to know, but luckily, Luca was faster than that. “Do you remember what Leighton said, about the tournament he won?” 

“He said he was last year’s swine swinging champion, didn’t he?” 

“And what year do we have?” Luca said, unsmiling. 

“5044?”

Luca looked at him as if he expected Kendrik to figure it out by himself now. But as he didn’t, the boy added: “Swine Swinging on Malicorn takes place every five years, once every full decade and once in between.” 

“But he said...” Slowly, Kendrik was dawning what was going on here. “He’s been here three years already? But what happened to him?”

Luca’s sad smile clearly told Kendrik that he was considered of having lived a very sheltered life so far. Which, in some ways, he had indeed. 

“They have paid a ton of credits for a young man who had never as much as left his hometown to bring here to Serin. He’s healthy and handsome, but he’s also kind, and caring, and hopeful - “

“He’s innocent.” Kendrik said flatly as he realized why Leighton was kept here, cold dread spreading in his heart. 

“Exactly. He’s a good man. He’s innocent, pure. A virgin of the soul.” Gently putting a caring hand on Kendrik’s hand, Luca continued: “And every time he realizes what horrors there are lurking in the real world, his memories are wiped, and he is fresh and clean as new sheets.”

With a sudden wave of violent sickness, Kendrik remembered those people in the audience, the other night. The ones that reacted to his performance with the dire urge to defile him, to soil what was beautiful, to state ownership by destruction. Being able to destroy the hope in a man like Leighton must be like a drug to them, the fact that they were able to do this over and over again an added bonus. They could learn how to best break him and elevate their sick sports to an artform all of its own, playing games among each other and bragging about the new horrors they have managed to visit upon the poor person. 

“I don’t know how they do it,” Luca explained calmly, still holding Kendrik’s hand. “If they use drugs or psions or whatever. But it won’t work forever. He’s quite good, still, but soon the nightmares will start. It always starts with nightmares.”

Luca’s expression didn’t leave any doubt about how it would end.

“This has happened here before, hasn’t it?” Kendrik asked flatly. 

“There is always at least one of his kind in the Secret Garden.” Forcing a brave smile onto his face, Luca concluded: “There is no point in telling him, they will just have him reset. And we just... we can’t act as if everything were fine, you know? We all tried, but we just can’t any more. If you can, please be his friend, it would be so kind. And if you manage, be his friend the next time, too. But don’t let it break your heart. You have to protect yourself, in here.”

Not sure if he was about to laugh or cry, Kendrik just grabbed Luca and held him tightly to his chest, burying his face in his hair. This place was a den of horrors, there was no doubt about this, he could feel it all around him. But to hear this boy, who might even be almost sixteen, tell Kendrik to be careful and protect his own feelings was just too much. He should be the one doing the protecting, keeping good people like Luca and Leighton out of places like this. It was completely ridiculous that it was Luca who had the guts to remain calm in the middle of all this horror, that he was the one who had to comfort a man at least three times his own age. 

Taking a deep breath, he could smell Luca’s hair, smell his body, no longer a child but not quiet a man yet, warm and firm and comforting. And inside, he could feel Luca’s emotions, dark blue and silver, wrapping around him just as protectively, a mantle of midnight sky that sheltered him from all other darkness around. Luca’s emotions snuggled around him just like his physical body did, and only much too late, Kendrik noticed bright flares of arousal flickering at the horizon of Luca’s mind like a purple sun’s corona waiting to swallow the starlit sky. 

Gently pushing Luca away took much more willpower than Kendrik had hoped. 

“Thank you,” Kendrik said, still a little embarrassed at how coarse his voice sounded. “That helped a lot.”

But Luca just sat there, looking at Kendrik as if he hadn’t heard a word he had said. His dark blue eyes were wide with wonder, and for a tiny moment, the tip of his tongue flicked over his lips in fascination. 

“Your soul, it’s... red,” Luca all but whispered. “It is red like velvet, and it smells of wine and smoke and chocolate and spices...” 

Kendrik desperately tried to say something smooth and perfectly credibly denying, but all that came out of his mouth was a pathetic garbled noise. Had he really shared his mind with Luca instead of just listening in? Had he really been that careless? But his connection to Luca felt so natural, so easy, it was like breathing, like being... As if two parts of a whole were finally growing together. 

“Hey there,” Ryan said into the awkward silence, setting down another cheerfully colored tray with a handful of shot glasses, all filled to the rim. “You okay?”

“I think he will be,” Luca replied, seamlessly switching into another mood. “He needs a stiff drink, but otherwise, he’ll be fine.” Turning his attention back to Kendrik, he added: “A good fuck would help, too. I’d be up for it, in case you were wondering...”

No, there was very little doubt about Luca’s plans in that particular direction, Kendrik found. Those drinks suddenly sounded like a perfect idea. 

“Actually, Mia and I have been talking about the venue for tonight’s show,” Ryan started explaining while watching Kendrik drown several of the drinks without even catching a breath. “And I think we have found the perfect place for you – the dakka den!”

“The dakka den still exists?” Luca exclaimed, visibly excited. “I thought it was one of those derelict sets that only come up in old stories...”

“As far as I know, it’s still there, just rarely used.” Turning around to Mia who just walked up behind him with another cheerfully pink tray full of ice-cream cups, he added: “But the dakka den would be very classy with all the jehanni décor, and would feel nice and cozy even if there’s not much of a turnout, tonight, wouldn’t it?”

“I think it would be quite perfect,” Mia said while setting down a generous cup of ice-cream in front of each of them. “We’d only have to find a really good outfit for Kendrik, so he wouldn’t look all out-of-place.”

“Yeah, Jehanni’s really the last thing he’s looking,” Luca commented dryly. 

Ryan was just about to suggest something as suddenly a servant came up to their table, carrying a letter on a silver tray, looking pretty much like a stray from the other side of the curtain. 

“You’re Kendrik, right?” the servant asked, stern but polite, offering him the letter. “I have a message here, from your owner.” 

“From my owner?” Kendrik asked, only in the last moment taking the letter before it became suspicious. “Thank you.”

“Why would your owner be sending you a letter?” Mia asked, busying herself with her second helping of ice-cream today. 

“I bet it’s to tell him that he’s safe from that Baron Yuri,” Luca stated firmly, his emotions betraying his anxiety to Kendrik. “It’s something like that, Kendrik, isn’t it?” 

Blinking, Kendrik tried to make sense out of what he was reading. 

Turned out that it was two letters, actually, the first one just a short note informing him that this was a copy of the letter ‘the Duke’ had sent to Baron Yuri this morning, and that the owner of the Secret Garden was receiving a similar copy. The second one was a facsimile of the actual letter, penned in a neat cursive script that looked very decisive and willful. Kendrik had to suppress a startled laugh when he recognized the writing as the one of his husband Colin. Probably the perfect person to word a letter like this one, Kendrik mused. He hardly knew anyone as protective as Colin when it came to his family.

“My owner thanks Baron Yuri for his kind offer, but he politely declines.” This was met with a relieved sigh from Luca and surprised frowns from Ryan and Mia. “Yet he expresses his understanding for Baron Yuri’s interest in me, and offers him another deal. If Baron Yuri manages to seduce me, he gives me free leave to do however I please with him as long as it is by my own free will.” 

“What?” Ryan spat quite gracelessly. “Damn, what a nasty bastard, your owner.”

“Told you he wouldn’t sell me.” 

“Can anyone explain to me why this is a big deal?” Mia asked, slightly confused. “Nobles just never make sense to me.” 

“Kendrik’s owner has just turned the tables on Kendrik and Yuri.” Luca explained, smiling widely, obviously enjoying this tremendously. “He’s baiting Yuri that he can have everything he wants from Kendrik, as long as he manages to make Kendrik give it to him.” 

“Freely,” Ryan added, sounding quite impressed. “If Baron Yuri forces Kendrik in any way, this deal is off. Shit, this is worded neatly. Did your master have a demon set this up for him?” 

“I am not sure...” Kendrik replied, looking back down onto the letter. Actually, he was very sure that Colin would have consulted Teagan on the matter, if only to make sure that there were no loopholes Yuri could use to make a scene. They probably had a lot of fun coming up with this deal. “I wouldn’t put it beyond him, though.” 

Almost reverentially, Ryan borrowed the letter from Kendrik and took a long, careful look at it before he handed it back. “No wonder your master is such a power player. This is really classy.” 

Kendrik only replied with a shrug. How was one supposed to react to compliments on one’s owner, anyway?

“At least you can be sure Baron Yuri will be in the audience tonight,” Luca pointed out. “And a lot of other people, too. Such deals never fail to gather publicity.” 

“Great. So everyone will come and hope to see me fail, either on stage or while playing cat and mouse with an evil old drug baron?” 

“That sums it up quite neatly.” Ryan nodded with an evil grin. “Which reminds me we should get back to our work, else you won’t even have a show to fuck up tonight.”

Instead of an answer, Kendrik only rolled his eyes and downed the last drink in front of him. How was he supposed to do any spying here when keeping up his cover was already going to make him lose his mind? 

“And if you need something to soothe your nerves right before the show,” Luca added with a perfectly innocent and absolutely devious smile, “I can offer the second-best blowjobs of this establishment. And you, I’d even blow for free.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For his first proper 'performance', Kendrik faces the monsters that lurk in the dakka den…

When Kendrik entered the dakka den, the place was already crawling with customers, the atmosphere ripe with expectation. The unexpected turnout admittedly daunted him. Who were all these people? What were they doing here? Surely one mediocre singer wasn’t such an exotic thing to visit here in the Secret Garden. 

But then Kendrik remembered something that Ondine had told him earlier this evening. 

“There will be a lot of people tonight, eager to see a new ingénue perform. And most of them will be eager to see you fail, so don’t give them that satisfaction.”

Looking at the assembled crowd this way, it made much more sense to Kendrik. Though calling them a crowd was a bit of a stretch – they were a gaggle of patrons lingering in the cozy corners and alcoves of the dakka den, sitting on low pillows and lounging on pallets. Once again, Kendrik had to silently admire the flawless sense of scenery the staff of the Secret Garden displayed. This particular pocket universe was modeled after the legendary smoke rooms of Jehanni history, or better, of Wu Tzun history, the House that had merged with the Medina to become House Jehanni. Dark wooden walls with delicate carvings alternated with precious silk screens in equally dark red, priceless carpets in gold and green and red littered the floor. Every pillow, every low table and tea cup practically oozed with wealth and highest artistic skill. 

Unlike the ‘strip club’ where Kendrik had performed the night before, this place was divided up into a maze of small nooks and alcoves, cleverly arranged that the staff could have an eye on all customers while the patrons themselves felt entirely unobserved. 

Fitting with the name of place, the dakka den was already heavy with smoke that lazily drifted across the place in idle layers. The sweet, cloyingly floral scent of dakka was the most prominent, but there were also some other herbs consumed here by various means. Kendrik could identify the sharp, fungal scent of some Youh’Kai drug and the sweet, grassy scent of some weed from Terra, silently hoping that the antidote Ondine had given him would help against this veritable cocktail of recreational drugs. At least he already could tell that it worked perfectly against the dakka smoke, as his nerves didn’t calm the very instant he entered the place. 

Not that he had much to fear, Kendrik reassured himself. He and Ryan had managed to piece together a short but really good program for him tonight, and as long as he didn’t forget any lyrics, he should be fine. As long as he managed to reproduce last night’s effect, he knew the audience would be helpless but to adore him. He just had to be careful not to overdo it. 

After a lengthy discussion, Ondine and Ryan had decided that they would take the risk and give Kendrik a set of real musicians, tonight. Just a guitar and a violin to accompany him, but he had never before been on a stage with any live musician, so there was a certain unknown factor. Hell, this was the second time in his LIFE he was standing on a stage doing anything but barking at soldiers. 

But then again, he liked it, there was no way around that. 

Walking through the dakka den towards the low stage where his musicians were already waiting, Kendrik had to smile at the reactions of the various patrons he passed. Already, some of them were so eager to listen to him that their minds all but latched onto Kendrik, their emotions so easy to read as if they were touching him. 

They thought he looked gorgeous, tonight, even better than the night before, beautiful. And considering the amount of effort Ondine or at least her staff had put into his appearance tonight, Kendrik could only agree with them. Wearing a simple combination of trousers and tunic in dark green with ridiculously elaborate and yet understated golden embroidery, he looked at the same time fitting and incredibly exotic in the dakka den. The collar of his tunic was cut low enough to show his collarbones and put his golden slave collar into full display, its green gem glittering in the candle light. In a flight of whimsy, Ondine had insisted on a fine layer of gold dust on Kendrik’s visible skin, which had prompted Ryan to insist on golden lacquer for his fingernails. 

Initially, Kendrik had thought this look incredibly tarted up, like the literal painted whore. But now seeing where he was performing, he had to admit they had been right. He was just barely tarted up enough not to look cheap between the rich tapestries and silk hangings. He actually looked ‘natural’, if he was interpreting the reactions of his audience right. 

Already feeling almost at home in this setting, Kendrik sat down on the stool that waited for him on the stage, nodding at the two musicians. Ondine had explained to him beforehand that there would be no microphone, but now Kendrik realized that this meant he would have nothing to busy his hands with. Once again, something he would have to learn on the run. 

While the musicians were still tuning their instruments, Kendrik seized the moment to take in his audience. Tonight, there was no bright stage illumination that hid the patrons of the Secret Garden in merciful darkness. It was a dim and shady establishment, no doubt about that, but Kendrik could see the faces of the closest people well enough to make out their expressions. Further away, they disappeared into mere shapes in the shadows, the lights of their various pipes glowing in the dark like the eyes of lurking demons. Quite a fitting image, Kendrik found, hiding his disgust in a shy smile. 

Brushing his hair over his shoulder, Kendrik was surprised by the wave of interest he could suddenly feel from the audience, the simple gesture causing several more patrons to connect mentally with him. 

Curious, Kendrik repeated the motion, this time taking a little more care to play with one of his golden tipped curls. The reaction was almost embarassingly awe-filled. Didn’t they have enough red-heads here? As far as he had seen, they were able to create any kind of haircolour at a few moments notice, why should his hair be any different? He’d have to ask Ryan about that, after the show, Kendrik decided. 

“We would be ready, now, Master Kendrik,” the guitarist behind Kendrik informed him softly. 

Had he really just been called ‘master’? Admittedly, this was a very stretchy title in the Phoenix Empire, but usually only especially talented slaves were dubbed so. Then again, Kendrik thought with an inward shrug, that’s what they saw him as, wasn’t it? 

“I would like to start with ‘Moradi Nights’,” he said with a calm nod towards the musicians and an encouraging smile. 

Paying as close attention to Kendrik as they were, he could feel their emotions already, too. And they were at least as nervous as Kendrik, he noticed with relief. At least he wasn’t the only one doing this by the seat of his pants. 

“Just give me half a stanza as intro, and we should be fine,” Kendrik added, trying to nudge the two of them into a slightly less stressed and a little more anticipative mood. And it worked nicely, their natural enthusiasm fed just barely enough by Kendrik’s powers that it now outshone their understandable apprehension. 

Now smiling, the musicians nodded in affirmation and started playing, the first notes almost instantly sending a hush through the patrons in the dakka den. There had to be hidden microphones somewhere, Kendrik realized, as the music was picked up flawlessly, subtly amplified and distributed all throughout the place. A soft murmur rose as the first recognized the song, and a rustle as many searched for a different position on their pile of pillows that would allow them to better watch his performance. 

Smiling, Kendrik nodded towards the guests whose faces he could see, trying to get back into that feedback loop between him and his audience that had allowed him to fine-tune his performance so nicely. 

And it didn’t take long, this time. Already halfway through the first stanza, Kendrik noticed the remaining members of the audience opening their minds to him, once again feeling like flowers blossoming in the dark. There were many more, this time, too many for Kendrik to be able to identify individuals any longer. But he still was able to clearly map out the emotions of his audience, their fascination with him serving as a bridge that safely spanned the toxic void of background radiation here in the Secret Garden. 

Almost completely abandoning himself in his performance, Kendrik just kept his psionic ears open to listen to his audience’s reactions, to find that sweet spot between too theatrical and too flat that managed to bring them into resonance with the emotions he wanted to convey. 

Kendrik was aware that there were still several members in his audience that were unconvinced by his performance, but he also realized they were outliers with specific tastes, while the great majority just enjoyed what he had to offer. 

Once ‘Moradi Nights’ was finished, Kendrik continued with the ‘Saber Dance’, aiming for something a little more uplifting and less somber tonight. Also, being accompanied by live instruments, the mood of the song should come across much stronger. 

And once again, Kendrik had guessed right. This time, there were bouts of laughter and some lewd remarks thrown in when the Cournicova’s secret affairs were revealed. But more importantly, the general mood shifted from predatory anticipation to something lighter, a promise of an entertaining evening that maybe for once did not include heavy drugs and torture. Quite a change for some of the patrons, Kendrik guessed. 

“Thank you all, thank you very much,” Kendrik said into the laughter and cheers once this song was over. “Thanks for coming here tonight, I hope we will manage to keep you well entertained.” 

Carefully listening to the emotional echo he got from the audience, Kendrik waited a moment before he spoke up again. 

“And please, have a drink, some food, or maybe some pliant company - this is not a museum. This is a brothel, after all.” 

Again, laughter branded throughout the place, an odd sound considering that screams and whimpers where the usual fare. Already, Kendrik could see some of the patrons picking up his suggestion, making sure they would not remain entirely focused on his performance only, but occasionally slightly distracted. 

Just as Kendrik had hoped. This way, it would be significantly easier to catch them unaware, when their emotions were much more honest. Subtly, he tried to enhance the patrons’ appetite for something spicy. This was beginning to be fun. 

Next up was ‘Passage to Odessa’, a Terran song, for a change, about a passionate affair the singer had with the first officer of the ship that he had booked a passage on. It was cute and not very long, but the emotions and the beat picked up nicely where ‘Saber Dance’ had left them, and Kendrik was able to continue his performance without losing much of the connection to his audience. Without much of a pause, he continued with ‘Solenzara’, this time a Shirazan song about a summer holiday fling that ended without the singer realizing that his feelings had been real and he should have told his lover so. A little more melancholic it served as a bridge to a group of slower songs that Ryan and Kendrik had picked. 

From the corner of his eye, Kendrik noticed more and more servants soundlessly sneaking through the dakka den, most of them serving drinks or guiding slaves to the nobles who had ordered them. But there was also a surprising number of food orders being carried out, the warm scent of Jehanni spices slowly mingling with the smoke of dakka leaves. 

Silently betting that the quality of food served on this side of the curtain would at least be as good as in the slave’s canteen, Kendrik was sure this would help to enhance the mood tonight in yet another way that was underused in the Secret Garden, at least in Kendrik’s eyes. Most people never fully realized just how much good food influenced them. 

By now, Kendrik was sure he had a firm grip on his audience. The next song would be ‘Gitano Boy’, a yearning love song about a guitar playing gypsy boy who came into town with a traveling show and was gone the next day already. It was a longer ballad, beautiful and poetic, but not necessarily difficult to sing for Kendrik. So he figured he would have half a mind to concentrate on other things – namely, taking on the task he had been sent here for in the first place. 

Kendrik didn’t claim that he had a profound understanding of the inner working of this empire. And the more he learned about it, the more he was convinced that he never would. 

But if the Emperor, and Commander Li Ma acting on his behalf, considered the conspiracy brewing here in the Secret Garden a veritable threat to the Empire, it had to be serious. Kendrik didn’t know much about Elisander, but he was very sure Li Ma wouldn’t waste her precious assets on anything that was less than world-threatening. 

So with an inward shrug and an outward smile, Kendrik tried to focus on the minds of his audience. It proved more difficult than he had thought, trying to keep his performance going smoothly and spying on the minds of the people around him. Also, he wasn’t as good a telepath as he was an empath, and so the whole business proved more than tricky.   
Abandoning his first attempt as he noticed that his singing got wobbly, Kendrik decided to first finish ‘Gitano Boy’ and then try again during the next song. As soon as he was able to turn his focus back on his song again, it got better, and he was nicely able to smooth the waves of concern and vicious schadenfreude at his insecure notes a few moments earlier. 

So he had to keep his audience on a tight leash, Kendrik reminded himself. Those were people all too eagerly waiting for him to slip up, all too eager to smell the first sign of weakness that would send them into a feeding frenzy like a school of hungry sharks. With a fine smile, he remembered what Mistress Ondine had told him the other night – you started feeding the dragons, dear, now you got to keep feeding them lest they feed on you. 

Of course that woman had been right. As always. 

So for the next song, he picked something slower, a sad, longing moradi ballad. It was a popular song, and played on the radio often enough that Kendrik had known it even before coming to the Secret Garden. He felt pretty confident that he would be able to sing and spy at the same time. 

Again, there was a hushed murmur going through his audience when the patrons recognized the song, mixed with curiosity to see how he would be doing on a song as well-known as this one. But Kendrik knew his audience well enough by now that the first lines of the song were delivered pitch-perfect, conveying the emotions of the song so clearly it startled several listeners. 

Kendrik allowed himself a few lines to get into the mood of the song himself, of finding a steady rhythm that would allow him to put his performance on autopilot for a while. He was eager to do what he had been sent to do, and his determination gave him even more chances to ignore the place’s toxic background radiation. So as soon as he felt his audience securely listening to his song and himself sure enough that he could continue without slipping up, he tried again. 

Using the emotional connection that he felt with the members of the audience, he tried to keep it simple at first, and merely tried to catch any surface thoughts he could get. 

But even that prove much harder than expected. Almost like trying to catch fish in tub full of lube, the thoughts seemed to slip away as soon as he concentrated on them, like flowers closing when they sensed your approach. And each time Kendrik tried to grab harder, to actively take their thoughts out of their heads, he was swamped with that churning feeling of pain and despair that made working here impossible for every other empath. 

Cursing inwardly, Kendrik tried again a few times, but had to give up in the end. It felt as if the bridge his performance was building only carried emotional content, and with it his empathic powers. But everything beyond that just fell through into the bottomless abyss of caustic horror that this place really was. 

The conclusion was simple, but very unpleasant. He would have to get into physical contact with each and every of his suspects. The longer and the more intimate, the better. 

It made Kendrik want to throw up. 

But instead, he turned his full attention back to his performance, bringing his current song to a graceful end and allowing himself the time to take a sip of water and catch his breath. 

Immediately, he could feel the connection to the audience turn brittle and slowly dissolve. But the connection seemed to last a little longer with each song, a tiny ray of hope in this ugly place. As it seemed impossible to just scan the crowd as Kendrik had originally hoped, he now concentrated on making himself as interesting and worthy of protection in the eyes of his audience as he could. 

It went well, and somewhere in the back of his mind he could even sense the cool approval of Mistress Ondine from somewhere behind him. Kendrik added three more sets of songs from all over the Empire, almost the whole catalog he and Ryan had worked up. When he finally realized he had been singing for almost two hours and his voice was getting sore, he almost felt surprised. 

It had been fun, sitting there, singing, being at the center of attention. If someone had told him a month ago, he would have laughed them in the face. Definitely not the simple jet fighter pilot any longer, Kendrik mused as the crowd gave a gentle applause for his performance. Not sure what he was now, but definitely something different. 

Bowing, he smiled and greeted, noticing with a certain professional pride that the customers seemed well entertained, happy, and for once not out for blood. He had to admit he was quite happy with the results. 

“Master Kendrik?” a servant suddenly asked next to him. “Baron Yuri requests your presence at his table. As would a few others.”

“Baron Yuri?” Still feeling a little flushed, Kendrik smiled. “Tell him I will consider the offer. Who are the others?” 

The servant blanched at this obvious affront, but swallowed his remarks. “Some patrons of lesser interest to this house,” he replied cautiously. “I can show you their tables, if you’d like.” 

“Have me meet those who want to chat,” Kendrik decided. “And let’s ignore the ones who would like more than that.”

“I am sure that will limit your obligations,” the servant replied glibly, and Kendrik wondered silently if he had just been reprimanded or not. “If you would follow me, then, Master Kendrik?”

So Kendrik followed him to a nook with two young nobles lounging on piles of precious looking silk pillows. They were gathered around a low table with the remnants of some many-dished Jehanni meal, and all-over looked like they were just having a good time. A lazy cloud of smoke was hanging over them, their long-stemmed pipes spreading the distinctively floral scent of dakka leaves. 

They were eager to find out who Kendrik belonged to, and invited him to sing on one of their parties the other week. They were a little taken aback when Kendrik explained that he did not know the name of his master other than ‘the duke’, but they were smart enough not to press the matter. They politely asked Kendrik to pass their request on to his master and assured generous compensation in a currency of the duke’s choosing. 

Even polite as they were, Kendrik felt like being bartered over on a camel market. Which, in all consequence, was quite an apt image. 

After that, the two nobles didn’t seem to be overly interested in more conversation, so Kendrik excused himself and had a servant show him to the other guest who had requested to talk to him. 

In the end, all of them wanted to get to know Kendrik better and ask him for private performances of some sort, which he all deflected to his enigmatic master. In some ways, not being able to decide anything for themselves made a slave’s life rather easy. It should have appalled him, but Kendrik had to admit that he felt a certain grim satisfaction at being able to pretend that he had no say about his life when it suited him. 

About an hour after he had finished his show, Kendrik decided that he had left Baron Yuri waiting long enough. The servant leading him to Baron Yuri’s niche was visible relieved to finally deliver what the Baron had ordered. The old man was sitting in a low chair with a high back, its upholstery almost as plush as his belly. 

“You sassy little bitch kept me waiting,” Yuri remarked grimly.

Kendrik sat down in front of him, as gracefully as he could. “And still you waited.”

Yuri snarled something hardly intelligible, but it was a grumpy, moody sound, not a warning. 

“How’d you like my performance?” Kendrik asked to break the ice. 

“It was okay.” As far as Kendrik could tell, this was even an honest opinion. “I liked it much better than your obvious lack of training or manners would deserve, so that is a compliment.”

“Thank you, milord.” There was no reason to anger the old man more than absolutely necessary, Kendrik told himself. After all, this was a prime suspect and a perfect chance to do some more spying. “Which song did you like best?”

Baron Yuri shrugged. “It was nice to hear so many old songs again, you know? Nothing in particular.” 

“Oh come on, there’s got to be one that you liked?” Playfully, Kendrik leaned forward and set a gently curious hand on Baron Yuri’s knee. “Tell me, which one? Gitano Boy? Or Moradi Nights?” 

Yuri chuckled throatily at Kendrik’s playful remark, uncaring about Kendrik’s hand lingering on his knee. Through their connection, Kendrik could already tell that Baron Yuri was deeply melancholic, an odd sentiment when considering his overall good mood. But apparently, melancholy was a good thing once you’ve reached a certain age. 

“Oh, let me guess,” Kendrik suggested. “Was it the Saber Dance? You like sassy boys, after all.”

But despite Yuri’s faintly amused expression, Kendrik could tell there was no emotional reaction coming from him. 

“What about ‘In his Arms’, being the war hero you are?” 

No reaction from Yuri, again. 

“Oh I know!” Putting on a cheeky expression, Kendrik suggested: “It was the ‘Old Dancing Bear’, wasn’t it?”

It had been meant as a joke, nothing else, but much to his surprise, Kendrik felt a turmoil of emotion from Baron Yuri, even though his expression remained almost unchanged. And it was not the expected flustered outrage, but a deep and cutting pain that felt entirely unfitting. After all, the ‘Old Dancing Bear’ was a song of an old man and his dancing bear, coming to a tavern once every year to play the fiddle and dance for some coins. It took Kendrik a moment to connect the pieces – in the last stanza, the old man one year appeared without his bear, and then never again. 

“I am sorry,” Kendrik said softly. “Lost too many friends along the way for that song to be funny, didn’t you?”

This suddenly brought Kendrik fully to the Baron’s attention. “You are the most peculiar pet I have ever met,” the old man wondered. “Are you sure you have no Habichtswald blood?” 

“Quite sure, though I really wouldn’t know.” Carefully gouging his reaction to the emotional feedback he received from Yuri, Kendrik asked: “Is that what I remind you of? Of the old times?”

This time, Baron Yuri laughed out loud. “Yes, indeed. You remind me of simpler times, when it was clear who was friend and who was foe.”

“And, is it the lack of friends or foes that makes these times different?” 

“Both, I’d say. The friends all died and the enemies all became pathetic.”

“That’s tough.” In a way, Kendrik genuinely felt with Yuri. But then again, this was an old fart who tortured slaves out of boredom, he reminded himself. Really no reason to feel anything but resolve. “No new friends?”

Baron Yuri snorted derisively. “I am too old to be ambitious and still way too young for the vultures to start picking my bones. Why would anyone bother being friends with me?”

“Normally people would try to be your friend because you were nice to have around,” Kendrik quipped, “though it’s quite obviously not your strong suit.”

“There was a time I was quite dashing,” Baron Yuri quipped, his somber mood every now and then punctured by brief sparks of horniness. So it definitely was something about Kendrik that seemed to get his juices flowing again. “You wouldn’t have mocked me, then.”

“But then we wouldn’t have had this conversation either.” 

“No, we wouldn’t.” Kendrik could feel a languid wave of aroused thoughts run through Baron Yuri, some of them clear enough to actually come across as real images in Kendrik’s mind. 

“You’d just ravish me, right there and then, would you?” By the expression in the old man’s eyes, Kendrik knew he was hitting home. “And every struggle would incite you even more, each time I’d try not to yelp with pain and lust?” 

Baron Yuri chuckled, an actually nice sound, his face lively for the first time since Kendrik knew him. "Are you sure you’re not a psychic? I could swear you are reading my thoughts.”

There was so little suspicion in Yuri’s emotions that Kendrik felt entirely safe. 

“You’re cute. If I were a psion, would I really be sitting here, on the floor of a brothel, entertaining horny old goats like you?” 

Again, Baron Yuri laughed, lively and barely disgusting any more. “You’d be on the floor, cringing with pain,” he offered, nicely revealing that indeed he was aware what kind of protection the Secret Garden offered besides professional discretion. “But you were still right. So tell my, you cocky little shit, what’s an old goat like me got to do to get you into that white uniform?” 

This was a genuine question, Kendrik could tell, and Yuri would be willing to go quite a distance to get what he wanted. Colin and Teagan had built him a perfect opening with their deal, he realized. An opportunity Kendrik surely would not want to see wasted.

“I will have to think about it,” Kendrik replied hesitantly. “Especially as you surely are not just going to look at me, then, will you?”

“Nah, I am too old to do much more, these days,” Yuri replied with surprisingly little bitterness. “But nothing that comes to your mind, no pretty things, no money, no little friend of yours that needs saving from a nasty master?” 

“Property can’t own property,” Kendrik quipped coldly. “So of what use would money be to a slave? And right now I am not really sure that any friend of mine would be better off in your hands than the ones they are in right now, as nasty as they may be.”

Yuri harrumphed, a rather pleasantly surprised sound. “I always forget that you are much smarter than you look. What’s your name?” 

“Kendrik.”

“Kendrik… It’s a good name, strong.” Yuri seemed to be rolling around the name in his head, trying to get a feel of the sound. “So what is it that you want, Kendrik?” 

For an odd reason, that question was surprisingly difficult to answer, Kendrik found. A part of him wanted to name some silly price and be over with it, insisting on a lot of cuddling and talking so he would have a chance to goad Yuri into thinking about that conspiracy. After all, he was just an evil old Dracon drug pusher kingpin. 

But there also was the problem – Yuri HAD BEEN an evil, torturing drug baron. Right now, none of his emotional reactions had been cruel or violent. He felt to Kendrik as if Yuri had just become too old, and maybe even too powerful to bother being cruel, and it had left him with little appetite for anything else. Nagging at the back of Kendrik’s mind was the half-formed idea that maybe, with the right incentive, Baron Yuri might discover that being nice to other people was a valid alternative. 

Nonsense, Kendrik chided himself immediately. He wasn’t here for a personal mission to save whoever he could find, and he definitely shouldn’t start with the most hopeless case this god-forsaken brothel had to offer. 

But still, what if? What if there was a chance that Yuri was actually looking for a way to change, and that he could spend at least the last years of his life at peace and maybe with some friends? It was an absurd thought. And yet, the nagging idea didn’t go away. 

“I think I will have to get to know you better.” Kendrik heard himself say, causing Yuri to blink in consternation. 

“Excuse me?”

“I would like to get to know you better.” Sensing Yuri’s genuine insecurity underneath his rumbling bluster, Kendrik actually started to like the idea. “You know, like a date. Like in every other healthy relationship.” 

Not that Kendrik’s marriage had started with a date, exactly, but that was entirely beside the point right now. 

“I don’t want a relationship.”

“I know. But I think that’s what you need.” 

For a long moment, they both just stared at each other, slave and noble, servant and master, both silently wondering how the powers between them could ever have gotten so skewed. 

“A date,” Baron Yuri replied flatly. “I have no clue what you expect from me.”

Kendrik laughed at Yuri’s honest cluelessness. “Usually, you’d invite me to something entertaining, like a movie, and then to something that offers the opportunity to chat, like dinner.”

“That sounds ridiculously expensive considering the hourly rates you demand.”

“You pay for entertainment and food,” Kendrik offered with a smile. “I’ll be free of charge as long as you are nice.”

“That’s the weirdest shit I’ve ever heard a whore say,” it burst out of Yuri, more fascinated than confused. “You sure your master will see it the same way?”

“I am to do with you as I please, as long as it is by my own free will.” Kendrik cited. “And I am not a whore, I am a pet. And if I remember correctly, I am going to be your date tomorrow night, so it would suit you not to call me a whore if you don’t want to be stood up.”

Laughing with surprise at this insolence, Baron Yuri nodded in agreement. “I can’t even recall the last time someone threatened to keep me waiting. But all right, we will play it your way. Tomorrow at seven, then?” 

“Tomorrow at seven.” Kendrik replied, rising as elegantly as he could possibly manage. There had been so much curiosity in Yuri’s mind, so much excitement and anticipation for something he hadn’t experienced in what felt to him like a lifetime that Kendrik felt himself actually looking forward to their meeting, too. “I’ll most probably be there.”

“You little shit.” Yuri snapped back, affectionately. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Horny old goat.” He replied just as tenderly.

Then, Kendrik blew him a kiss, turned around tossing his hair over his left shoulder and left the dakka den as regally as he could, struggling hard to hide the wide smile on his face.

That had been a performance worthy of any courtesan. Misstress Ondine would have been so proud of him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mentally exhausted with the events of the day, Kendrik calls home…

\--Can’t sleep?-- Yaden’s mental voice was calm and steady as a rock, as always. 

\--No. It's been a bit much for a single day.-- 

\--Want to share?-- 

For a moment, Kendrik was tempted to just pour out all the emotions that he felt, to just get rid of all the thoughts and half-formed ideas that were running circles in his head. But he caught himself in the last moment. Sharing would be good, yes, but not this way. It would probably confuse Yaden just as much as it confused himself, and wouldn't do much good to either of them. 

\--Yes, but slowly,-- Kendrik replied. --I am confused, and need someone to talk to.--

\--You know I am always here for you.-- 

Kendrik sent him the image of a smile, and the memory of a gentle cuddle that they had shared once, skin against skin. 

\--I - I told you I was learning how to sing, yes?-- 

Instead of a worded answer, Yaden just sent him a sense of confirmation, and the image of himself getting comfortable in his hammock behind the house, having all the time in the world to listen to him. 

\--I am performing for guests, now.-- Instantly feeling Yaden's excitement, Kendrik couldn't suppress a wide smile of his own. --I knew you would like the thought. And before you ask, yes, one evening I will sing for you at home.-- 

\--I would love that. And Colin and Jennifer, too.--

\--I am NOT performing naked. Get your mind out of the gutter!-- Inwardly laughing at his husband's naughty imagination, Kendrik once again sent a grateful prayer to whatever deity was listening. Having a relationship like he had with Yaden was a blessing beyond words, and that Colin and Jennifer and Teagan joined them quite harmoniously was simply improbable. He still couldn't quite believe how lucky he was. --I've tried spying on the guests, here. It didn't work out.-- 

\--Is the background too poisoned? Do you want to quit? We can have you out there in an instant!-- 

\--No, darling, I am not going to quit. Not now.-- Feeling Yaden's ever-present eagerness to bust Kendrik out of his situation at a moment's notice was flattering, Kendrik had to admit. --It's just not going as fast as I had hoped it would. But I think I know how to proceed, so I'll be fine.-- 

\--Really?-- Yaden's question was soft, and full of genuine concern. 

\--I think I will be. It's... difficult, but in a different way than I thought.-- Taking the mental equivalent of a deep breath, Kendrik braced himself. --I start having ideas that feel sane to me, but I would have never had before. I am not sure if I am maturing or going insane.--

\--As long as you wonder about that, you're not going insane,-- Yaden replied gently. --Problems start once you stop wondering.--

\--Well, we will see if you're still that convinced after you heard my plans.-- 

\--Now you've made me curious.--

Kendrik sent him the image of a soft chuckle. Already, this conversation was making him feel a lot better, and a lot less insecure about himself. 

\--I have two things I need to talk about, but before I start - god, this place is EVIL.-- Filling the last word with all the repulsion he had swallowed over the last two days, Kendrik felt Yaden blink in surprise at the intensity. --It is pure EVIL, and I have to say so at least this once. This whole damn warren should be burned to the ground, if you ask me. And please tell me you see it the same way, yes? I know you do, but please just tell me so.--

\--Darling, you are absolutely right. The Secret Garden IS evil. And you're a very brave soul going in there. Doubly so as you've grown up so sheltered.--

This made Kendrik laugh out loud. Of course, from Yaden's point of view, he had indeed grown up quite sheltered from the darker sides of humanity. It sure hadn't felt that way, though. Quite the contrary.   
But he had survived the poverty of his childhood and the constant fear of his youth. He had even learned to live with the guilt for what he had done during the war. He wouldn't let this silly brothel bring him down. Not as long as he had his spouses waiting for him outside, offering all support and healing a man could wish for. 

\--Thank you, love. I just needed to hear that once.--

\--So what about your mad plans, now?--

\--I am not sure if they are mad, just... reasonably suspicious.-- Smiling at himself, Kendrik started to explain. --You remember Baron Yuri?--

\--Is he still after you?-- There was such a sweetly threatening note in Yaden's mental voice that Kendrik couldn't help himself but send him the image of a passionate kiss. 

\--Yes, he is still after me. But he is rather sweet, can you believe that?--

\--No.--

\--That's what I am struggling with, too. But he is... you know, he is not evil. He is cruel by habit, not because he wants to be. I think he actually might enjoy being one of the good guys if anyone showed him how to.--

\--That admittedly sounds a bit concerning. And I take you want to be the one showing him the light?--

\--I don't know. I just want to shove him in the right direction.-- Forcing himself to word the thought that had been bothering the whole evening, he added: --I will need to spend more time with him, anyway. He's one of the best connected Dracon here in the Garden, and a perfect starting point. It might mean that I will have to sleep with him, eventually.--

But instead of any sort of reaction, Yaden just sent him the feeling of listening attentively. Apparently, this was much less of a problem to Yaden that it was to him, Kendrik realized. 

\--Would that be a problem for you?-- Kendrik asked again, this time with more emphasis.

\--It would be a problem for me if you didn't want to.-- Yaden's answer felt a little mumbled, a clear sign that he wasn't too sure what Kendrik expected of him. --I trust you to know what you are doing, and if this is something you think is necessary, I will always support you. But if that old cunt hurts you, I will rip him to shreds.--

Again, Kendrik had to smile at his husband's protectiveness. It was nice to know that there was someone out there he was so precious to. 

\--Thank you, love,-- he replied. --But I don't think that will be necessary. I just... it is something I want to try, something I feel I need to do.--

\--No need to explain,-- Yaden replied gently. --I've been on missions often enough, having to decide what to do next. Just follow your heart, you'll do the right thing.--

Kendrik knew Yaden was just trying to say something nice, but still he couldn't keep the mental image of a weary sigh escape him. 

\--What was that about?-- Yaden asked, mildly surprised. --Honey?--

\--I'm not sure I can trust my heart right now.-- Kendrik replied, flashes of midnight blue and silver trying to overwhelm his ordered thoughts. --There is a boy here...--

Yaden replied with heart-felt laughter. --What, you got a crush on one of the pretty flowers in the Garden? Don't tell me you're surprised.--

\--I am, actually...-- Kendrik replied, feeling a little hurt. What kind of floozy his husband thought him to be? 

\--Seriously? Kendrik, this place is meant to offer the best for all tastes - yours' as well. So if you found someone nice, have fun, by all means. It's ugly enough, in there.--

\--He's sixteen. At best.-- Kendrik replied flatly.

\--Okay...-- Yaden was clearly sensing that Kendrik was having a serious problem with that fact, but he couldn't quite grasp why exactly, so he sent Kendrik a slightly diffuse equivalent of a questioningly crunched-up face. 

\--That is too young. Way too young.-- Kendrik replied, but of course that didn't really help.

\--But if he's too young for you, then what's the problem, dear?--

Finally fed up with the Empire's disgusting laissez-faire attitude, Kendrik just hurled his whole, muddled ball of emotions at his husband, a tangled mess of desire, shame, fascination, horniness and hardly bearable temptation, all neatly tied together with a generous amount of embarrassment at the sheer hubris of believing he could have found yet another perfect match for himself. 

\--THAT's the problem.-- Kendrik replied, instantly feeling bad as he realized the slightly overwhelmed static buzz his husband was conveying while struggling to make sense of those emotions he had probably never felt himself. --Oh I am sorry, darling. I just snapped.--

Instead of a worded reply, the first thing Yaden sent as soon as he was able to was the mental image of a long, warm hug. No question, no reprimands or snarky comments. Just a hug.   
Kendrik felt tears sting in his eyes, once again overwhelmed with love for this man. With Yaden at his side, he would be able to do anything. Even live in the heart of this rotten Empire. 

\--No need to be sorry. I didn't realize this was such a big problem for you.-- 

\--Thank you, love.-- Leaning into Yaden's imaginary embrace, he took his time before asking: --Any suggestions?--

\--Not sure... Why do your people have such a stigma attached to loving someone... of that age?-- 

For a moment, Kendrik was tempted to hurl back something rash. How could that even be a question? Wasn't this something that should be obvious to any civilized human being? But he caught himself just in time. Yaden wasn't exactly what one would have called civilized in the Scilla Republic. He was strong-willed, ethically and morally uncompromising, but only out of his personal convictions, not formed by social conventions. And Yaden had asked honestly and politely, so he deserved a proper answer at least. 

Only, that explanation didn't come as instantly to Kendrik's mind as he had hoped. Why exactly DID they set the age of consent at 21?

\--We believe it is one of the worst crimes to be forced into a sexual relationship, ever more so if the forced party is a child that cannot yet understand what is done to him.-- Kendrik started explaining, if a little hesitant. --And we consider the protection of our children more important than the freedom of some individuals.--

\--A lofty goal. But why is it so much more than just a law to you?--

\--?!-- Kendrik couldn't even come up with words to express his surprise at this remark. 

\--Dear, since I met you, you've broken pretty much every of your laws, and quite a hand full of ours, and you never so much as shrugged about them. At that time, it was just the right thing to do. So why now?-- Yaden's question was accompanied by a few choice memories of the two of them sneaking their way through the Scylla Republic by every means necessary, lying, stealing, killing, if they had to. 

Kendrik had to admit his husband had a point there. 

\--There may be a need for violence and deceit, yes. But there never is a reason to force oneself on a child.--

\--But you are not planning to 'force yourself' on that boy, are you?--

\--Of course not!-- 

For a moment, Yaden sent nothing but a slightly expectant expression. But when Kendrik didn't react, he added: 

\--Listen, dear. To me, this looks pretty much like you being convinced that you will harm that boy in some way, not because you intend to, but because you grew up being told it would. Am I right?--

Kendrik sent a tentative agreement, not really liking the direction in which this was leading. 

\--So do you really think that being cherished, adored and for once having sex with someone who will treat him like a proper human being and not just a fuckhole will scar him for life?--

\--I don't know!-- Kendrik snapped back. --I don't know, for heaven's sake.--

Suddenly, a warm, golden wave of tender love washed over Kendrik, and he could almost feel the sad smile on Yaden's face. 

\--Love, do you really think you could do anything to that boy that hasn't been done to him a hundred times over?--

Kendrik didn't reply for a very long time. In his mind, he was fighting down the images of Luca being forced down by an endless line of customers, of him being beaten and raped on stage, of Luca's bleeding face, beaming with pride at his 'performance'.

\--No.-- 

\--See?-- Again, Yaden sent him the impression of a long embrace. --There is nothing wrong with protecting children. But there is different kinds of protection.-- 

Leaning into his husband's imaginary embrace, Kendrik groaned audibly. 

\--I hate this place.-- 

\--Good. I would have been very worried if you didn't.--

\--I have to think about all this.-- Kendrik explained, realizing how tired he was becoming. --About Luca, and about Yuri. And how to get more information. Do you know any songs about rebellions and clandestine meetings? Something that might provoke an emotional reaction in the conspirators we are looking for?--

Yaden laughed softly. --No idea, love. But I will ask the Tower, I am sure they can come up with something suitable.--

\--That's a great idea.-- Once more, Kendrik leaned into his husband's virtual embrace. --Thank you. For everything.--

\--Sure.-- Gently, Yaden sent him a wordless command to fall asleep now. 

Kendrik didn't even notice when Yaden left their connection. For all he remembered, he fell asleep, dreaming of lying in his husband's arms.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luca is tired of waiting…

Dancing lessons were becoming Kendrik's favorites. 

No courtly dancing, those were rather tedious, but the raunchy ones. Moving seductively to music, undressing himself more often than not. Poledancing. Lapdancing. The whole seedy catalog. 

Poledancing, especially. Today's lesson had only been his second, but Kendrik could barely recall an instance he had had that much fun learning something new. Feeling his old, soldierly self battle with something else inside of him, something that was fun and exciting and not quite defined yet was just fascinating. And his martial training, the Scillan augmentation process and his mother's ballet genes seemed to make him oddly talented, even if he was miles away from the usual, lithe kind of guy who'd excel at the pole. 

Pretty much as Ryan had predicted, Kendrik had been misjudging his moves as often as he had not, but that had been part of the fun, too. Even when he had managed to hurl himself basically across the room when he had lost his grip, it had been more silly than disappointing. He'd probably be black and blue, tomorrow, but Kendrik didn't really care. 

More and more, he came to realize that he really enjoyed seducing people. Not as means of manipulation, but there was some kind of intoxicating, naughty fun of being able to make someone else blush by wriggling his hips. He had always liked sex a lot, but now he was beginning to enjoy other people thinking naughty things about him, and his ability to spark those thoughts in them. 

Kendrik would have enough opportunity to train those skills tonight, anyway. He was scheduled to make his first appearance as a companion, which meant walking around among the customers and just being pretty and nice. Entertaining them, no more, no less. And of course, later tonight, he'd have his 'date' with Baron Yuri. 

Right now, though, all he felt was flushed and sweaty from his dancing lessons. He just wanted to get to his room, catch an hour or two of sleep before he had to get ready for tonight. At least this part wasn't different from when he had still been part of the Scillian Army - a good soldier sleeps when he can. 

Calmly, Kendrik nodded to the other whores he passed on his way to his cell, inwardly smiling at the fact that 'whore' suddenly held no other emotional impact to him than 'mechanic' or 'surgeon'. It was no longer an insult, but a job title. And one that needed a lot of training, as he knew first-hand. 

Once inside his little room, Kendrik flung off his skimpy shirt almost before he had closed the door behind him. Ready to drop onto his bed face-first, he caught the motion among the sheets only in the very last moment. 

Quite awkwardly catching himself, he barely managed not to immediately drop into some sort of fighting stance. And it was a good thing, because the mop of tousled, black hair sure didn't belong to anyone with harmful intend. 

"Luca!" he blurted out, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"And good day to you as well, Sir," Luca replied mockingly, obviously quite amused at Kendrik's reaction. "I was waiting here for you."

With a smooth motion, he sat up in the bed, the sheet almost accidentally falling of his shoulder revealing that he was pretty much naked underneath. In the uncompromising light, Kendrik could see the faint freckles on his shoulders, and the hint of a beginning treasure trail leading down from his belly. All his body was smooth and white and firm, and for a long moment, Kendrik was unable to do anything but stare. 

"I figured you'd need a bit longer to decide if you wanted me in your bed or not," Luca said finally, his eyes dark with determination. "So long you might as well be gone already before I get any chance to fuck you." 

Inviting, Luca lifted the corner of the sheet he was lying under. 

"I'm sick of waiting, and I know you've got at least three hours before your next assignment." Smiling warmly, he added: "Stop mewling and come into bed. It's nice in here." 

Kendrik tried to reply anything, but he just didn't seem to find any words. Probably, that was because a good portion of his mind was preoccupied with the mesmerizing color of Luca's midnight blue eyes, and the way his skin seemed to glisten like white silk or compacted snow. The rest of his mind was watching with mild dread as Luca's mind seemed to reach out to him, his desire latching onto Kendrik and serving as a bridge even more effectively than any artful performance. Almost instantly, he could feel Luca's emotions, silver streaks of desire on a sky of midnight blue, a deep, scintillating longing like beams of moonlight in the dark of the forest. 

"Please?" Luca asked, and his voice just crumbled what little defenses Kendrik might have still had. 

With a soft sigh, Kendrik slipped under the sheets with Luca, and into his arms. Embracing him tightly, he inhaled his scent, both physically and mentally, almost drowning himself in the sensation. Luca smelled good, of course. Perfect matches always did. Even physically, he still bore a faint reminder that he wasn't a fully grown man yet, beneath his scent of freshly cut wood and wet stones. But to Kendrik, his mental signature was even more revealing. 

The longer Kendrik allowed himself to be saturated with Luca's blue and silver mind, the more nuances he could spot. The boy held a myriad shades of blue, each one so deep and clear it was fascinating in itself. The silver lights that streaked his mind smelled of steel, and where the shades of blue were so dark they were almost black, Kendrik smelled Jasmin and white Peonies blooming in the night. 

"Oh God," Luca whispered faintly into their kiss. "What is this?" 

Entwined as their minds were, Kendrik didn't even have to ask what he was talking about. "Our minds are merging," he explained, still holding Luca tightly against him. "You can feel mine as much as I can feel yours." 

"You must be worth a fortune..."

Softly, Kendrik chuckled into their kiss. "I am priceless," he replied, his eyes still closed and his mind opened wide. "But not even half as precious as you are."

Instead of an answer, Luca snuggled closer to him, trying to get as much skin contact as was humanly possible. This wasn't how Luca had planned this, Kendrik could feel. Not the hard and passionate sex that he had expected, but cuddling and kissing and holding each other. And now that Luca had had a first taste, now that he realized what he had been missing, he was ravenous. Still horny as a rat, that for sure, but for some odd reason, his cock could wait for just another moment. 

Grabbing Kendrik by his neck, Luca kissed him again, almost feverish, commanding. His slender body pressed against Kendrik's, almost petite compared to his bulk, supple and hungry. There was nothing childlike or insecure in his actions, nothing but clear, conscious desire. Maybe he wasn't supposed to, considering his age, but he clearly knew what he was doing. 

After another, long kiss, Luca pressed Kendrik back into the pillows and shook off the sheet they had been cuddling under. Perfectly naked as he was, he straddled Kendrik across his hips, grinning as he felt Kendrik's cock hot and hard underneath him. The tiny, pink tip of his tongue slid over his flushed lips as he took in the image of Kendrik beneath him with half-closed eyes, his hands exploring every inch of Kendrik's skin. 

"I've seen many fucking gorgeous men in my time," he purred while languidly rocking up and down along Kendrik's cock. "But damn, you are one magnificent beast." 

A half-choked laugh was everything Kendrik could reply to this. There was a perfectly beautiful teenager boy sitting across his hips, his immaculate white skin in startling contrast to his tousled black hair, his blue eyes only showing in glimpses behind ridiculously long lashes, talking dirty. How could he ever find words for that? 

Instead, Kendrik reached for Luca's exposed cock in front of him, hard and straight and all but quivering with need. But as soon as he touched Luca, he got a sharp slap on his wrist. 

"Ah, not there," Luca admonished him sharply, all the while rubbing his ass against Kendrik's cock in a maddeningly slow pace. "I don't want to come now, and if you touch me, I won't last."

Kendrik could feel that the last remark was an admission of weakness, even though he didn't really understand why Luca felt this way about it. But he didn't care, and instead grabbed Luca by his thighs and smiled at him. 

"You're gonna make me cum, anyway, if you continue like that," he said, bucking up his hips against Luca just a little. "Shouldn't you let me get out of my trainers at least?" 

His face full of dreamy distraction, Luca continued for a moment longer. Then he nodded, his eyes still half-closed, and lifted himself up just barely enough to Kendrik could slip out of his pants with a little expert help from Luca. Settling back down again, Luca grinned widely when he felt Kendrik's cock now directly against his skin, thick and hot and throbbing with need at least as much as his own. 

"FUCK this is good," Luca muttered under his breath, taking up his slow, rubbing motion again. "I could do this all day long." 

"You'd drive me crazy."

"Never." Suddenly, Luca opened his eyes, looking right at Kendrik, alert and intoxicated at the same time. "If you can see me as clearly as I can see you, you know I never would. It'd be a close thing, though..."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kendrik felt alarmed at the way he was sharing all of himself with this boy he basically knew nothing of. But then again, said boy was sharing just as unquestioningly, and besides, all those concerns were completely overwhelmed by the task at hand. 

Like, for example, Luca's thighs, white and firm under his hands, holding him with delicious pressure. Or the way Luca suppressed tiny, giddy moans each time his balls rubbed along Kendrik's dick, his face flushed with excitement. 

In his mind, Kendrik could feel how much Luca reveled in these sensations, that he was taking it in like a gift, something to be cherished and remembered for a long time to come. The boy had had plenty of sex in his life, but he was starved for intimacy, tenderness, love. Things he found easily enough in Kendrik's arms. 

Then Luca reached down, angling for something in his discarded clothes on the ground. Kendrik had to smile when he saw it was a small tube of lube he had brought with him. That boy had come here with clear intentions and a plan. He liked that thought.

But when Luca applied the lube to his ass with expert swiftness and was already about to settle himself on Kendrik's cock, Kendrik stopped him. One hand on Luca's butt, one arm around his shoulders, he pulled the boy closer to him, until he was lying on Kendrik's chest. He fit into Kendrik's arms as if he had been custom made for that purpose. 

"Slow..." he whispered into Luca's ear. "Let's take our time, let me do this..."

Kendrik could feel a mild confusion breezing through Luca's mind, a glitter of indistinct colors in the otherwise brilliantly clear emotions. But as their connection worked both ways, Luca trusted him wordlessly, and happily relaxed onto Kendrik with a tiny sigh, spreading his legs as wide as the narrow cot allowed. 

Still holding Luca in a tight embrace with one arm, Kendrik closed his eyes and let his free hand wander further down. He could feel waves of arousal wash through Luca when he touched his hole, as well as the sparkle of surprise at how easily Luca could trust Kendrik. Luca was shedding every bit of professional detachment by now, well aware that this should worry him, and yet still perfectly trusting Kendrik would do the right thing. Of course, through their connection, he knew that Kendrik would never do anything to hurt him, but years of training and bad experience weren't normally cast aside in a few heartbeats. 

But what about this was normal, anyway? 

Gently, Kendrik pressed a finger inside Luca, smiling at the soft, impatient moan that the boy gave in response. Adding another finger, he realized that Luca would need hardly any preparation, little surprise there. But this wasn't about speed. This was about trust, and enjoyment. So Kendrik took his time, playing with Luca, cradling him on his chest, light as a feather, one hand on his neck, one on his ass, listening to his ragged breath and stifled moans, watching the midnight blue of his mind mingle with first streaks of red and gold. 

They continued like this for a while, until neither of them could wait any longer. When Kendrik finally pushed his cock against Luca, he slid inside easily, filling him in both body and mind. Still holding Luca tightly to his chest, Kendrik moved slowly, already way too close to coming but wanting to get every little bit of time out of this that was possible. Luca moved just as slowly, just a little bit to complement Kendrik's motions, wholeheartedly in agreement. 

Their minds were just as closely entwined by now, red and blue alternating in languid swirls, glittering silver motes with golden trails. 

Kendrik could feel how close Luca was to coming, and instead of pulling away, he continued in the same, languid pace, pushing Luca over the edge at a maddeningly slow pace, sharing his sensations as closely as he possibly could. He felt the tension rise in his body, felt the change in Luca's cock as it grew even harder against his belly, his perfectly rounded ass growing tight with a feeble attempt to deny his body the release he had been working towards all the time. Luca's mind became a vortex as all his being was swallowed by the sensation, pulling Kendrik with him. Luca held out as long as he could, but finally he gave a shuddering moan and came, spurting hot and slick onto Kendrik's belly, shivering with the intensity. This finally was too much for Kendrik as well, and he came inside of Luca, as deep as he could, following Luca into the oblivion of bliss. 

Their merged minds shattered like a stained-glass window, and for a long moment, they were unaware of everything but each other. 

Bit by bit, Kendrik came back to his senses. Smiling inwardly at the image, he felt as if all the red shards of the shattered stained-glass window were gathering again, merging to form what was him. It was a good feeling, and wholesome, even healing. Luca, still on his chest, was still breathing hard, wrecked by occasional shudders. He would still need a while. 

Not loosening his embrace on the boy, Kendrik angled for his blanket and pulled it over both of them. Once he was done, he closed his eyes, reveling in the memory of the love making they had just shared. And it had been love making, no way around that. It had been more than sex, and that only happened when there was more than horniness involved. 

Curious, Kendrik tried to visualize his own aura, checking for changes. Sleeping with someone you were this close to always left traces, psion or not. Such close contact changed both people involved, it was only natural. Only most non-psions never met a perfect resonant match. Hell, even most psions never did. And with a perfect match, the traces were visible much sooner, sometimes even after the first time. 

On his chest, Luca moved faintly, glowing warm and happy, his mind still sending waves of silver sparkles over both of them. 

Before he had met Yaden, Kendrik's aura had been bright red, with electric edges, just as he had been a hot-headed, nervous young man with tons of emotional baggage and no-one to talk to. Yaden had grounded him, given him perspective and purpose, and over time, his aura had changed with his character. It had turned the color of red wine, with golden trim and the scent of incense. 

Being with Luca would change him as well, Kendrik knew. But he was curious to find out how, and the changes in his aura would be a first indicator of that direction. It took him quite a while, but then he realized that some of the sparkles did not come from Luca. The gold in his aura had gained a luster of its own, suddenly, and even though Kendrik had no clue whatsoever on what this would translate to in terms of character, he admittedly liked it. It gave a new dimension to the visual interpretation of his aura, and that usually meant some sort of positive growth. 

But there was also something else, and for a while, Kendrik was hard pressed to say what it was. His aura had always had a somewhat velveteen, luxurious texture, but now it was almost as if he could see the folds in the fabric. There was more depth to it, more structure. And then, it struck him with a clarity that almost made him out loud. His aura had gained shadows. If he had gained them by being exposed to all the dark emotions of the secret garden or by being sympathetic to Luca's suffering, Kendrik couldn't tell. But there were was darkness and light represented in his aura, and a countless shades in between. 

He was definitely not a simple soldier any longer. 

"Hey..." Luca whispered on his chest, still his eyes closed, pulling Kendrik out of his introspective mood. 

"Hey sweetheart," Kendrik replied, adding a gentle cuddle. "Are you okay?"

"Oh God, yes!" Luca replied with a wanton shiver. "Don't remind me."

Kendrik laughed out loud. Despite everything this boy had been through, his feelings of joy and lust were untainted. Oddly enough, Luca's aura seemed unchanged. 

"So, what about a shower?" Kendrik asked, moving a little to illustrate the slick mix of sweat and semen between them. 

But Luca mewled something vaguely negative in reply. 

"Not?" 

"No yet..." Raising up a little so he could look into Kendrik's eyes, Luca smiled widely. "Can't we have a second course?"

Again, Kendrik had to laugh out loud. "Sure, but I don't know if I'm up to it again already. I'm not thirteen any longer, you know?" 

The smile Luca gave him in return was positively feral. 

"Oh trust me," he purred. "I'm a professional. I could make you go on all day." 

This time, they both laughed out loud, an amicable, careless sound. Luca bent down to kiss Kendrik on the mouth, and while they kissed, Kendrik suddenly realized the change in Luca's aura. 

Each time before, there had been an element of cold in the way he perceived Luca's aura. A winter night, or a frozen lake, always something like that. And while Luca's aura still had precisely the same colors of midnight blue and silver, it was no longer cold. 

Winter had passed, and now the moon was shining brightly onto the first warm night of spring.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Kendrik have their own version of a horror movie date night…

"Oh, look," Baron Yuri pointed out, genuinely pleased. "We're right on time for the feeding of the plants."

At first, Kendrik had to struggle with the image of them watching a gardener watering some flowers. But then, he remembered that this wasn't any botanical garden. This was the fabled Zoo of Serin, in equal parts a cabinet of horrors and a showcase for the planet's most daring hunters. 

It wasn't a place where lords and ladies in fineries marveled at exotic animals and beautiful flowers. It was a place where you taught children why it was smart to run when there was a spider in the basement or a weed in the yard. Here, the exhibits were held in airtight cells with walls of ceramsteel and ten-inch glass, with the names of those who captured them proudly displayed at the side. Often, those hunters were here as well, exchanging stories and hoping to find some rich patron paying them for another expedition into the wild. 

Thinking of it, a visit to the zoo probably was the Serin version of a horror movie date, with a distinct chance that the date in question would end up so frightened it needed a strong arm to cling to. 

All considered, it had been a relatively smart choice of Baron Yuri for their first date, Kendrik thought with a sideway glance at his companion. Not that Kendrik felt particularly frightened by the exhibited fauna and flora. But he felt adequately impressed, and actually quite entertained. After all, it was a nice change from the constant sex, drugs and music of the Secret Garden. 

And apart from everything else, it was outside the Secret Garden. Outside the residual horror of hundreds of years of abuse and torture, of madness and despair. Oh admittedly, it was still not a nice place, not by far. But at least, Kendrik was able to use his psionic abilities with little risk here, and it had filled him with hope to finally get somewhere with his investigation.

Unfortunately, the only thing he had been able to glean so far had been the fact that somewhere along the centuries of his life, Baron Yuri must have had extensive training on how to shield his thoughts from prying psions. Nothing too fancy, just a simple application of willpower, but so ingrained in his being that Kendrik couldn't read much more than his most superficial thoughts. 

A better telepath would have been able to delve deeper, even read Yuri's memories, but Kendrik was primarily a blocker, then an empath, and then, by pure chance, also a telepath. He theoretically could have forced his way into Yuri's memories, but then there would have been a good chance of Yuri noticing that he was under attack, and calling in his own supernatural security. Which, given the clear orders of Commander LiMa, was a scenario to be avoided at all costs. 

That left him with the age-old trick of all mediocre telepaths - he had to get Yuri to think of what he knew about the conspirators, preferably while touching him. Easier said then done, but Kendrik wasn't in any particular hurry. After all, he still had the whole evening. 

Together with a handful of other visitors, Yuri and Kendrik watched as the handlers dropped several small animals into each of the cells, carefully making sure to stay out of reach of the actual exhibits. For a long moment, nothing particularly interesting happened. But then, almost instantaneously, the pastoral scenes inside the display boxes exploded into violence. 

Of course Kendrik had been well aware that most of Serin's flora was carnivorous. But the sheer viciousness of the attacks shocked him still. There was a speed and malevolence to the way those little critters were stabbed, ensnared, squashed, choked, poisoned, flayed or liquefied that he just hadn't been able to imagine before from any creature, lest alone from something that most of the time looked as if it would be happy with being watered every once in a while. 

All his instincts yelled at him to run, to fight, or at least get into a defensive fighting stance. Only in the very last moment, Kendrik remembered that doing so would pretty much give away his extensive training. So instead, he opted for the next best thing, and grabbed Yuri's arm with both his hands. 

The old Dracon baron chuckled loudly. 

"It is something to behold, isn't it?" he said, gently patting Kendrik's hand on his arm and leading him closer to one of the display cases. "Everything here on Serin has to earn it's life, and over time, even the flowers have become quite marvelous fighters."

Even without reading his thoughts, it was pretty obvious that Yuri liked plants better than most humans. But Kendrik was admittedly surprised when he realized that Baron Yuri envied the plants for the simplicity of their lives, for their complete lack of any moral observations. 

With morbid fascination, Kendrik watched how some sort of small insects emerged from their hideaways within the display case, frantically trying to gather some of the blood that covered the glass wall in generous splatters. Some of them managed, others were snatched off the glass by small, reddish flowers that suddenly had sticky, whip-like tentacles. 

Soon enough, the whole grisly business was over, and one by one, the cells returned to their normal state of relative immobility. Except for a few recently added bulges and the occasional scattered bones, nothing had changed. It hadn't taken more than a minute, all together. 

"Oh, I wish I were young enough to go hunting again," Yuri mumbled mostly to himself. "Those were exciting days..." 

"You really long for constant fear for your life?" Kendrik asked, hoping to prod Yuri into revealing something interesting. "Well, try being a slave, you'd have a blast." 

Baron Yuri burst into roaring laughter, the idea of himself as a slave so far from his mind that he wasn't even offended.

"Oh, that was a good one," he finally said, flushed with genuine amusement. "I ought to have you whipped for it." 

"If that is how you treat all your dates, it's little wonder you're lonely," Kendrik retorted, well knowing that it was one of Yuri's little involuntary cruelties again, not a really conscious decision. 

"Oh good Lord, don't be so prissy." Still smiling, Baron Yuri shook his head, pretty exactly voicing the thoughts in his head. "It's not the fear I miss, it's the achievements." 

For a moment, he seemed distracted, pondering something, flooding Kendrik's listening mind with images of a younger Yuri in heavy armor, outside in the jungle, panting, bleeding, blissfully happy. Those were followed by images of a plant inside a glass cage, a plant that elicited both admiration, respect and wariness in him. Then, quite abruptly, Yuri decided with a conspiring smile: "Come on. I want to show you something." 

Not waiting for Kendrik's reaction, he turned around and walked off into the dimly lit corridors that were clearly marked as 'off limits' for visitors. Not that anyone seemed to care. And it seemed that Yuri knew his way around this place well enough, anyway. Shrugging to himself, Kendrik followed his 'master', wondering what the hell the old man was up to. But Yuri seemed invigorated, more than ever, and in his buoyant mood actually was becoming something close to not-quite-unpleasant company. 

They walked in silence for quite a while, until somewhere in the dungeon-like place, Yuri suddenly stopped, opened a door and walked into the brightly lit office room behind. Kendrik remained a step behind, careful to maintain his appearance as a slave who just trailed his wayward master. 

"Is the Lady still here?" Yuri asked without any sort of greeting. "I haven't seen her in years."

"Huh? Who are you?" the young woman behind the desk asked, already cautious at Yuri's black uniform. "Sir, this is a dangerous place, you really shouldn't be walking around without -" 

"I am Baron Yuri Dracon," he introduced himself, quite politely, actually. "I don't believe we have met." 

The woman blanched, swallowed and then tried to rise from her chair and bow deeply at the same time. It looked a little awkward, but she still managed with a lot more grace than Kendrik would have given a zookeeper credit for. A useful skill for sure if you were working on Serin. 

"My Lord," she all but whispered. "I... It is such an honor. I didn't know you were coming."

"Never mind. You probably weren't even born when I was here the last time." Kendrik could feel that this was no exaggeration, not even by far. With a tiny sigh, Yuri dropped the subject, and inquired again: "So, how's the Lady doing?" 

"Oh, she is fine, milord, very fine." the young woman said, a somewhat star-struck look in her eyes. "She is currently flowering." 

"Really?" Yuri replied, pleasant surprise in his voice, slightly impressed respect in his thoughts. "Well done. It's not easy to make them bloom in captivity. But why isn't she on display, then?" 

"Oh, we've had a few incidents," she replied, shrugging awkwardly. "Some addicts trying to smash the display case to get to the flower, you know? We've had to move her to a safe place. - Would you like to see her?" 

"Yes, we would very much like to see her." 

The young zookeeper nodded with a smile, fetched a bundle of keys from out of her desk and walked out of the office. Yuri followed her, gallantly offering his arm to Kendrik. 

"Who is 'the Lady'?" Kendrik asked softly as they followed the woman through another assortment of dimly lit corridors, even though he had quite a good idea already. "You sound like the two of you have some sort of history together."

Baron Yuri cast Kendrik a sidelong, surprised glance, then he chuckled. "One could say that. She and I go way back. She tried to kill me, you know?" 

"Was it something personal?"

"At that time? No, I think she would have killed anyone then." Still very amused, Yuri added after a while: "These days, she would make an extra effort of killing me, though, if she ever got a chance." 

"What did you do to her?"

"I potted her." 

Of course they were talking about plants, here, Kendrik reminded himself. But that last remark was filled with so much quiet pride at the achievement that he couldn't help himself but smile with Yuri. That must have been quite some Lady if her capture still was a matter of pride to him after all these years. 

The zookeeper stopped at a fortified door and used one of the keys from her chain to open it. The room behind was dimly lit, just like the corridors, except for an island of bright illumination right in the middle. The light came from a large glass display case that was easily nine feet on each side, filled with nothing but bare, sandy soil and a single plant in the middle of it. 

It looked harmless enough, Kendrik found, just a cluster of elongated, heart-shaped leaves on a clump of fuzzy brown roots, with a handful of voluptuous flower buds on slender stems rising over the foliage. But this was a Serini plant, and one that came with a name of its own, so Kendrik kept a respectful distance of the case. 

"Oh, she is looking splendid!" Yuri exclaimed, genuinely impressed. "Seven flowers... she must be quite happy here." 

"Milord, you are too generous," the zookeeper mumbled, visibly embarrassed. She was just about to add something as a sudden motion inside the cage stopped her short. 

As if Yuri had crossed an invisible boundary, suddenly the soil inside the cage burst apart, almost a dozen slender, delicate roots attacking the glass towards Yuri with a fervor that made Kendrik wish he had a blaster with him. Even the warden took a startled step back, clearly just as respectful of the Lady as Kendrik was. Yuri, on the other hand, smiled and stepped forward, putting a hand against the glass.

"Still full of passion, even after all these years," he muttered, watching fondly as the roots concentrated their futile attacks on the point where his palm touched her case. "You are aging well, darling, much better than me." Turning around, he gestured Kendrik to come closer. "Come, have a look at her. Don't worry, she can't get out. She's been trying for a century by now; she won't manage within the next five minutes." 

A little hesitant, Kendrik closed up to Yuri, and fascinatingly enough, the plant stopped her vicious attacks. Instead, her roots retreated, sinking back into the ground almost tracelessly. Featherlike roottips smoothened the soil until until looked as harmless as before. Kendrik got the vague impression that she was embarrassed by her earlier outburst, a feat in it self more than warning enough. 

"She likes you," Yuri said, sneaking a plumb arm around Kendrik's waist. "In a culinary sort of way, of course. She thinks you're a treat for her. Look!"

Following Yuri's pointing finger with his eyes, Kendrik noticed that all of the plant's bud were pointing in their direction, almost as if the plant was looking at them. Slowly, one by one, they opened with the languid moves of a stripping dancer, revealing petals of pale blue and purple, rimmed red and white, shimmering like the wings of butterflies and in perfect, hypnotic symmetry. 

It didn't take a botanist to recognize that particular blossom. It was the logo of the Secret Garden, after all. 

"A dakka plant?" Kendrik asked, incredulous. "I thought you couldn't capture them alive, let alone keep them in captivity."

"As I said," Yuri replied, "I was quite the accomplished hunter, in my youth."

"You potted her," Kendrik repeated, now finally understanding what exactly Yuri had meant with that particular remark. "No wonder she gets temperamental when you're around." 

"Ha, temperamental, I like that." Pulling Kendrik a little closer, he added: "Murderous, that's more like it. She broke the first two confinements we had her in. Cost me quite a few of my men until we figured out what materials she couldn't just worm through." 

The blossoms were still pointing in their direction, swaying lightly as if caught in a gentle breeze. It took Kendrik a noticeable effort to take his eyes off them, something he filed away with another clear warning. "It's airtight, the container, is it?" 

"Absolutely." Yuri confirmed with a tiny, calming pat to Kendrik's arm. "If it weren't, you wouldn't be wondering any longer." 

"Is their poison really that strong?" Kendrik asked, instantly regretting the question as suddenly, Yuri flooded his mind with images of his friends ripping off their protective masks, kneeling down next to those cursed flowers in complete rapture, unable and unwilling to think of anything else, not even noticing that the plant's roots were slowly digesting them from below. The memories were so strong Kendrik had to suppress a horrified gag. 

"Their scent is not a poison, it's a drug." Yuri explained coldly, not even remotely showing how much those memories still hurt him even after all these years. "It doesn't kill you. It isn't even harmful in the original sense. It just... it is just stronger than everything else. Everything else."

Forcefully taking his eyes off the Lady, Baron Yuri asked with fake light-heartedness: "So, you want to see her fed? It's quite the show, to see the fodder go from terrified to ecstatic."

Again, it was one of the mindless remarks of an old Dracon, but Kendrik felt like he lost a heartbeat or two when he realized that Yuri was talking about feeding her with a human, something that was apparently a common pastime for his kind. It was so incongruent with the pain Yuri had felt only moments ago at the death of his friends he had lost to similar plants that Kendrik couldn't help but stare at his companion for a long moment. 

His disgust must have been pretty much written all over his face, for Kendrik could feel Yuri grow insecure, questioning himself and his offer, kindly as it had been intended. 

"You don't," Yuri said after a while, and it wasn't so much of a question as a sudden cognition. 

Acting purely on instinct, Kendrik mentally pushed Yuri a little further in that direction, trying to create a connection between the suffering of the potential victim today and the friends Yuri had lost on the hunt. In response, a sickly unease welled up in Yuri, an emotion that was both unfamiliar and unexpectedly intense to the old man. 

"I don't think I am in the mood, today, either," Yuri said, sounding a little surprised. "I think we should rather talk about dinner, not watching others eat, shouldn't we?" 

Grateful, Kendrik took a deep breath. "Thank you," he whispered, genuinely relieved. 

Much to his surprise, this kindled a mild spark of pleasure in Baron Yuri, a tiny ember of empathy, of joy at seeing someone else happy. All but jumping at the emotion, Kendrik did his best to subtly increase it, to add a little substance to that fleeting thought, hoping to keep it alive long enough for Yuri to really notice. In tandem with his psionic efforts, Kendrik gave Yuri a wide, grateful smile, and leaned into their embrace. 

"Dinner sounds great." 

Again, Baron Yuri chuckled, but this time, it carried not only grim amusement, but also a mild surprise at the fact that he actually, simply enjoyed making his very handsome date smile. 

Inwardly, Kendrik had to make a conscious effort to keep himself from giving a victorious hoot. Politely, Yuri tipped his imaginary hat to the zookeeper and left, his arm still around Kendrik's waist.

"So, no more hunting these days?" Kendrik inquired casually while they walked through the corridors. "No new challenges?"

"It became repetitive after a while," Yuri replied matter-of-factly. "It did teach me a lot about dakka, though. That's how I ended up in the business." 

"Seems you got quite accomplished there as well." 

A faint wave of amusement and satisfaction washed over Kendrik through his connection with Baron Yuri. 

"The big shots of that time considered me a bratty upstart, and tried to get rid of me." For a moment, his smile held a memory of its former predatory edge. "I hunted them down as well." 

"I see. You didn't put them in display cases, as well, did you?" 

Once more, Yuri laughed with genuine amusement at the image. 

"No, definitely not worth the effort." A little softer, as if insecure about Kendrik's reaction, he added: "They made good fertilizer, though."

"They obviously picked the wrong fight," Kendrik replied, glossing over the fact that indeed, he still found this casual talk about murder quite appalling. "And let me guess, after a while, there was no one left for you to hunt down, was there?"

Yuri nodded calmly, his emotions an odd mix of regret, reminiscence and being fed up with it. 

"So, what then?" Kendrik pushed the subject, still hoping to somehow getting closer to achieve anything for his actual mission. "No other interests? What about sports? An eccentric hobby? Luxury yachts? Pretty pets?"

Baron Yuri merely shot him a disdainful glance, his emotions clearly showing that he had tried it all before. Two and a half centuries were a lot of time to get bored of things, especially if you had more power than ambition and more money than vices. 

By now, they were already walking along the official paths of the zoo again, near the end of the tour. The display cases to the left and right now showed smaller specimens that could be bought for horrendous fees, interspersed with dainty stands that offered leaflets for guided tours or armed expeditions into the wilderness of Serin. 

With clipped gestures, Yuri told the staff to fetch his glider, and for a few moments, they were mostly alone in the large shopping area. 

"What about politics?" Kendrik suggested cheekily. "You could be Emperor, if you wanted."

"Bah, heavens forbid!" Yuri spat, quite credibly digusted. "What little I dabble in politics, I use to keep me out of it!" Snarking, he added: "I vastly prefer the honest cutthroat business of dealing in deadly drugs." 

Kendrik knew Yuri was telling him the truth, and felt almost tempted to leave it at that. But he had more to do here on Serin than entertaining that horny old goat. 

"Seriously?" he asked. "Not even to ruffle some feathers, rearrange the board in your favor, mix up things a little bit? I mean, there must be countless young, ambitious Nobles knocking on your door, begging for your help, aren't there?" 

This time, there were images of Nobles fleeting on the top of Yuri's thoughts, and Kendrik made an extra effort to memorize them. But those faces weren't enough to implicate anyone in the conspiracy that Kendrik had been sent here to unravel. 

"There's always stupid children dabbling around in things way more dangerous than they understand." Yuri rumbled, slightly annoyed at the fact that his glider still wasn't there and not paying much attention to their conversation. 

"Oh," Kendrik replied. "That sounds as if someone tried to rope you into something only recently." 

Suddenly, a clear image emerged in Yuri's thoughts. Two young Dracon, pleading something that Yuri passionately wanted to stay away from. One man, one woman, both dark-haired, him with a distinctive goatee and mustache. The image didn't come with names, but with pretty distinctive personalities that should make it easy for Kendrik to identify them if he ran across them inside the Secret Garden.   
But the image was gone almost as soon as it had appeared, and instead, a keen sense of caution and tingling warning permeated Yuri's thoughts. 

"And what if?" Yuri asked, a harsh edges suddenly in his voice. "What do you care about politics?"

For a heartbeat, Kendrik feared he had overstepped and ruined everything. He was no spy, no glib-tongued intriguer who could talk his way out of everything. He was just winging it, hoping to get through this with as little damage as possible. 

But then a faint emotion in the back of Yuri's mind caught his attention. It wasn't all cold calculation and caution Yuri was feeling right now. There was not merely the worry that Kendrik might have been yet another pawn in one of the many plays that Yuri tried to stay out of. There was also a faint but clear hope that he wasn't. 

"I'm sorry, that came out wrong." Kendrik heard himself say, much calmer and a lot less defensive than he would have thought himself capable of. "It's just - I don't want you to be involved into something nasty, you know? I wouldn't want to worry about you." 

"That's stupid." Yuri grumbled as a reply, but inwardly he was both appeased and silently happy about the reaction. 

"Yeah, I know." Kendrik replied with a smile, taking Yuri's hand in his. "So what do you have planned for dinner, horny old goat?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kendrik and Luca spend an average evening in the Secret Garden…

"Whoa, are you sure?" Looking down at the assortment of various sweets on Luca's tray, Kendrik couldn't suppress laugh. "I know you're sweet, but isn't this overdoing it a little?"

Luca looked down at his tray as well, pouting and faking innocence with little credibility. "What? I am smart, I need sugar." 

"Yeah, but you also need other things besides that."

"I have others things," Luca mewled petulantly, his eyes glittering with amusement. "Look, there's even two sorts of vegetables."

"You call crisps and fries two sorts of vegetables?" Kendrik gently pushed Luca towards the exit of the buffet. "I have to give it to you, that does require some creativity." 

"See? Told you I was smart. S-M-R-T." 

Laughing softly at his own silliness, Luca brushed his arm gently against Kendrik's elbow as he turned towards the booths, searching for a place to sit. It was just a tiny gesture, but it spoke of intimacy and gentleness in a way that was completely alien to the Secret Garden. 

It was quite common for younger whore to attach themselves to older ones for a little protection, and no one batted an eyelash at Luca and Kendrik spending their spare time together, including some of their nights. That they spent a good portion of that time just cuddling and talking would have been cause for quite some gossip, though, and more than just a little bit concern among the management of this place. 

Love affairs between members of the staff were strictly discouraged. 

So they tried not to cuddle in public and keep the longing glances to an absolute minimum. Which, unfortunately, only seemed to entice Luca to try and sneak in every little touch, every little gesture of affection that was possible. Kendrik had tried to protest, initially, but didn't get much of a reaction out of Luca. Only renewed efforts from his side, but honestly, Kendrik loved those little touches, those sparks of emotion they carried into his mind. Luca's affection made it much easier to bear the horror of the Secret Garden, after all. So in the end, Kendrik had just given in, and instead made a game out of it - every time Luca got too obvious, Kendrik slapped him and played his role as rough, unsentimental pet that only kept Luca around to vent some steam every now and then.   
But every time Luca managed to sneak in a caress that no-one could possibly have noticed, Kendrik said nothing, and merely smiled. 

Over the last days, Luca had become quite adept at this. 

Here in the cheerfully brightly colored canteen of the Secret Garden, they had to be extra careful not to seem too close. And yet, as they settled in one of the spring-green booths, Luca's leg leaned against Kendrik's just a moment too long, just a little bit too longingly. And Kendrik smiled again. 

"So, what's up for you tonight?" Luca asked, not reacting to Kendrik's smile in any way. "Will you be singing again?" 

"Probably," Kendrik replied, watching with silent amazement how Luca dug into the first of his three cups of ice-cream with almost ferocious appetite. "My date with Baron Yuri went over quite nicely, so I think I'll ask Mistress Ondine if she'll let me 'mingle', tonight, after the show." 

Luca nodded, pensively chewing on a candied cherry. "I still can't get over the fact that you liked your date with that old fart."

Kendrik shrugged guiltily. "I couldn't help it. He WAS nice, you know, like, trying to do the right thing." 

Luca eyed him from across the table, licking his spoon. "But you don't trust him, do you?" 

"Don't know. He feels genuine."

"You gotta be kidding me!" Luca exclaimed. "He's a Serin Dracon, it doesn't get any nastier than that." His expression mellowed into sweet concern, his soft lips set almost to a pout. "Please don't do anything stupid."

Kendrik would have laughed, but a significant part of his concentration was busy drowning in a wave of hot arousal that suddenly washed over him. Now that he had slept with Luca, it got harder and harder not to think of countless ways they could spend their time together. None of which would be legal in his native realm. But thinking of Luca's sinuous, white body, pressed against him, writhing in pleasure, made Kendrik go twitching all over, in the very best way possible. 

"I promise I'll be careful," he said, the words coming out much huskier than he had wanted them to. 

Luca only laughed and gently patted Kendrik's foot with his own. 

"Do you still want desert?" Luca asked lightly. "I could still fit in a little something."

"More sweets?" Kendrik asked, incredulous. "After all that?" 

Luca blinked at him, languidly biting his lower lip. "In your room."

"Hrm." Kendrik knew he ought to have replied something crude, or coolly commanding. But all that came out was a vaguely intelligible sound and a hungry smile. How did that boy manage to make him act so stupid when he was around? 

"I take that as a yes." Luca smiled widely and started eating his chips with the same, gleeful abandon he had been plowing through his ice-creams with. 

Kendrik watched him eat in silent fascination. He was growing very fond of Luca, and it had little to do with the fact that he was a stunningly beautiful boy, horny as a rat and naughty to the core. Luca was an indomitable spirit, his cool passion and deep emotions unspoilt by what happened to him whenever he wasn't around Kendrik. Sure, he was wounded, and much too jaded for his age, but he wasn't broken. It seemed Luca was able to cherish what little good happened to him, and to acknowledge the bad and let it slip off him with little more than a shrug. He was an amazing person. 

Kendrik knew he would have to make a decision concerning Luca when he wrapped up his assignment here. It was a nagging worry at the back of his mind, and he hated it with a passion. But there was still time, Kendrik told himself, a lot of things could happen until then. He would cross that bridge when he came to it. 

“Hey, would you mind if I join you?” 

Kendrik looked up and found Leighton standing next to their table, looking a bit tired but otherwise still vibrantly healthy and very male. 

"We're almost finished, Leighton," Kendrik replied with a sidelong glance at Luca. "Luca here has to leave any moment now, but I sure wouldn't mind."

"Cool, thank you," Leighton replied with a wide smile that showed his ridiculously white teeth in his tanned face. "How'd you know my name? Have we met already? There's so many new people here, I'm sorry if we have already been introduced, but it's all been sort of a rush since I arrived last night." With another wide, sunny smile, he added: "It's the first time I'm away from Malicorn, you know?" 

"I think this is my cue to leave," Luca mumbled, slipping off his bench without so much as looking at Leighton. "See you later, Kendrik!"

For a long moment, Kendrik struggled to say anything. He knew perfectly well what had happened to the young man opposite him, his farmer's muscles and tousled hair still looking as if they had picked him fresh from the pasture. But that poor guy had been here for over three years by now, and every time he realized that he was surrounded by monsters, his memories were wiped and he was reset to the day he arrived here at the Secret Garden. 

It made Kendrik want to throw up, made him want to call his husband and see this whole place and every single of its customers ground to rubble and forgotten for all time. 

But this wasn't why he was here. This establishment was perfectly legal under the repulsive laws of the Phoenix Empire, and if not here, then the nobles of Serin would get their sick amusement in any other brothel of the planet. 

"I'm not sure," Kendrik pressed out with what he hoped would look like a friendly, welcoming smile. "Probably I just overheard someone talking about you."

"Oh, okay, that's good." Leighton replied, visibly relieved. "I really try to memorize everyone I meet, you know?"

"That's sure helpful." The whole conversation creeped Kendrik out, but he knew that the only kind thing he could do was to be Leighton's friend. This time around, and possibly the next one as well. "So, what are you doing here in the Secret Garden?"

"Not entirely sure yet," Leighton replied with a shrug of his massive shoulders. "Madam Tochka invited me over, to talk to her guests and maybe give a few massages." 

"Massages, really?" Kendrik tried a friendly smile. "You don't look like a therapist, you know?" 

"Oh no, I am just a Malino farm boy," Leighton replied, bashfully rubbing his nose in a gesture that was so adorably insecure on a man of his built that even Kendrik had to admit he had to be a goldmine for the Garden. "I won the last Swine Swinging Contest, you know."

"Really? Wow, congratulations!" Kendrik said, hoping it didn't sound as sarcastic as it felt. "I heard it takes considerable skill."

Leighton earnestly blushed to the tips of his ears. "No, really. I just got lucky, you know, the weather was perfect, and my pigs fell asleep almost on their own. No big deal." 

"Well, it was the same weather for everyone else, so I think it did have something to do with you, after all." At least, having the same conversation twice made it easier to say the right things, Kendrik thought with an icy shudder. "It's not a bad thing to take credit when you deserve it."

Leighton's blush deepened another notch, but he remained silent, and instead focused on the steak in front of him with a faintly embarrassed smile. 

Kendrik stayed with Leighton until he had finished his lunch, and they chatted about his family on Malicorn, the tournament, the beaches of Malena and the waves of the Kune-Kune sea. In turn, Kendrik talked about his time in the army, though he didn't mention which one. It was nice, and Kendrik genuinely liked Leighton. If it weren't for the occasional twitch in his face, he could still have passed as a perfectly normal person. 

When they shook hands for good bye, Kendrik caught a glimpse of Leighton's aura. Still brightly green and brown, it felt nice enough, but the colors had dulled and the edges seemed wrong - as if someone had tried to retouch a photograph with heavy oil paints. All Kendrik could do to prevent himself from grinding his teeth was to excuse himself and make a speedy exit. 

How could people do this to another? How could this kind of slow murder be accepted? 

But then, this was the Phoenix Empire in a nutshell. As long as you were rich and powerful enough, you could do whatever you want. And they made a working, stable Empire out of that. Gruesome, but working. 

Kendrik shivered all the way back to his cell, and it wasn't because he was wearing only slacks and an unbuttoned shirt. The simple fact that such a place could exist unchallenged made him freeze inside. He knew he had to do something about the Secret Garden as soon as his mission here was finished, but he didn't have the slightest idea what exactly. 

Whatever he did, he couldn't save them all. So who would he leave here to rot? 

Caught in a dark cloud of gloomy thoughts, Kendrik hardly noticed anything around him. Only in the very last moment, he realized that there was someone standing in front of the door to his room, talking in low, threatening tones. 

Clive. 

"I know you're in there, you little coward," Kendrik heard him hiss. "Your shining knight won't be here for long, and then you'll see what you get for treating me this way." Clive slammed a heavy hand against the door, growling like a wolf. "No one is treating me like this, and I'll make you regret it. I'll rip you up from ass to ear and fuck your bleeding bones until you beg to - "

That was about as much as Kendrik needed to hear. 

Not even thinking twice, Kendrik broke into a light run, covering the last few meters between him and Clive in a few, long strides. Clive had barely enough time to turn his head. Kendrik's straight left hit him like a freight train, right onto the cheekbone, in front of the ear, and sent him flying against the wall and sprawling onto the floor. 

Not in the mood to show any chivalry, Kendrik was above him in an instant, kicking Clive hard and fast, twice, just for good measure. But even in his black mood, Kendrik had no intention of killing him. He wanted Clive to hurt, to fear for his life. To suffer just as much as he had made others to suffer. And that wouldn't happen if Kendrik just stepped onto this throat. 

So with a strength a man of his size and weight shouldn't naturally posses, Kendrik pulled Clive to his feet by his chin and belt, slamming his head against the wall behind him. Clive was so dazed he could hardly raise his arms to defend himself. 

Pinning Clive against the wall with a hand over his throat, Kendrik continued to pummel him with hits, into his stomach, against his chest, all over. No jabs, nothing too hard it would probably do any critical damage. But Kendrik made sure Clive would be black and blue all over for the next weeks, sufficiently in pain to remember this moment for a long time to come. 

"Kendrik! Stop!" suddenly a sharp voice cut through the air, commanding enough that Kendrik stopped his fist an inch in front of Clive's battered face. 

Risking a swift glance to the side, Kendrik saw Mistress Ondine standing in the hallway, a clipboard in her hands and a stern, startled expression on her flawless face. Behind her, a gaggle of teenage whores stared at them, open-mouthed. 

"What is this about?" Ondine asked firmly, though it sounded more like a genuine question, not a reprimand. "You are damaging the property of the Secret Garden."

Kendrik's first instinct was to reply something deferential, apologetic, evasive. But the odd, level way that Ondine had asked him made him think twice. 

"Please put it on my Master's bill," Kendrik answered in the end. "As entertainment for his pet. I'm sure he's good for it." 

Ondine blinked once, hesitated, and then gave him the faintest hint of a smile, all perfect grace and manners. 

"Well, in that case, Master Kendrik," she replied as evenly as if they were talking about a few pieces of broken china, effortlessly replaceable. "Please enjoy yourself to your heart's content."

And with a flawlessly measured nod of her head, she turned around, snapped her fingers to get the whores' attention and walked off, her perfect ass swaying. 

Still pinned against the wall, Clive made a choked, pleading sound, helplessly gesturing in Ondine's direction. But she didn't hear him, and Kendrik was rather sure she wouldn't have reacted even if Clive had screamed her name. 

The sound turned Kendrik's attention back to his victim, and for a long moment, Kendrik pondered what to do next. A part of him wanted to beat him up further, though that would do little more than even out the bruising he had already given him. Another part clamored to kill Clive, to end it here and then, to make sure he'd never again harass anyone else. After all, he had just acquired him to do with him as he pleased, and within the sick framework of this place, that included killing him any which way he wanted to. 

Or rather, destroy him, Kendrik corrected himself mentally. Slaves were items, and items could not be killed, only destroyed. 

As if searching for an answer, Kendrik let his eyes wander over Clive's battered face, searching his eyes for any redemptive quality that he might possess. But all Kendrik could find was pain and anger, a slow, boiling rage that wasn't quenched, but fanned by the treatment Kendrik had given him. In Clive's eyes, Kendrik saw unveiled hatred, wrath, and the roiling desire to dominate. 

With his hand still at Clive's throat, it was an easy thing for Kendrik to dive deeper into his emotions. Locked into combat as they were, it was almost as easy as if they were having sex. Fueled with anger as he was, Kendrik hardly needed to look for Clive's motivations. Barely buried underneath his desire to dominate was the simple fear of being dominated himself, of being submitted to another man's will, of being helpless. Clive was so fundamentally selfish that he couldn't even imagine someone helping him, or even him being worthy of help. In Clive's mind, it was all a matter of win or die, and this moment, right here, with Kendrik holding him at his mercy, was his worst nightmare come true. 

For a second, Kendrik could feel Clive contemplating a million ways to get back at Kendrik, to hurt and punish Luca for what Kendrik had done. But even this little spark was enough to set Kendrik's own cold anger roiling again. 

With icy fury, he grabbed Clive's fear with his mind as mercilessly as he held his body, welding the image of this very moment to the base of Clive's character, to his fear of anyone stronger and meaner than him. Cold and methodically, Kendrik tied everything he could find in Clive's mind to that fear, his lust, his anger, everything, until this fear was the unavoidable center of everything that happened in his mind. 

Outward, Kendrik could see Clive's eyes widening in mindless fear, his face blanching underneath the angry pink of the onsetting bruises. 

Kendrik knew that Clive was a simple enough creature that this treatment would make his fears stronger than his aggressions, that from now on, he would react with withdrawal where before he would have acted with cruelty. 

And yet, Kendrik wondered if that would be enough. 

Since the departure of Mistress Ondine, hardly half a minute had passed. Kendrik's body was still flushed with adrenaline, and his power over Clive was a dark, toxic allure all by itself. 

Would it be enough? Kendrik wondered. It was quite possible that Clive would one day be able to shake this manipulation off, becoming the same, vile character as before, maybe even more so. Again, Kendrik pushed harder, the mental equivalent of driving a nail deeper down into the wood even though the head wasn't visible any longer. He knew he could push him even further, up to the point where emotion became obsession, where obsession became psychosis. Like bones snapping when there was too much force, minds broke when the emotional burden became to much to bear. 

Powered by anger, Kendrik knew he could easily break Clive. Permanently, even without killing him. Reduce him to a whimpering wreck, for the rest of his days. 

But that wouldn't be right. 

With a deep sigh, Kendrik broke their eye contact and let go of Clive. Maybe he would recover and be as evil as before. Maybe he would change and become a nice guy. Probably he would get killed by some Dracon in ways so abhorrent that Kendrik couldn't even imagine them. 

Whatever it was, it was not Kendrik's place to make that decision. 

"Get lost," he snarled at Clive. "Get your sorry ass out of my sight, and remember that every little whore here might have a big, big friend somewhere. Remember me when next time you think of hurting someone." 

Stumbling, Clive limped away from Kendrik, ducking as if expecting another blow any second. Kendrik kept his eyes on him until he disappeared into another corridor. It was a pathetic sight. 

Still breathing heavily, Kendrik turned to open the door to his room. Much to his surprise, it didn't move, even though the door couldn't be locked from the inside. Kendrik tried again, but there obviously was something on the inside blocking the door. 

"Kendrik, is that you?" he heard Luca ask from the inside. 

"It's me," Kendrik replied. 

Even before Luca opened the door, Kendrik could feel himself reaching out for the boy, his mind passing the distance between them effortlessly. Now that he knew that Luca was close, Kendrik could hardly bear to be without him, to feel his cool and calm mind around the sore and angry emotions of his own. 

It took Luca only a few seconds to remove whatever contraption he had used to block the door, then he pulled Kendrik inside, hugging him with almost the same motion. 

"Oh God," Luca whispered against Kendrik's chest. "When I heard Mistress Ondine, I thought... I don't know... Are you in trouble now?" 

"No, darling," Kendrik replied, his eyes closed, his head leaning against the inside of the door. "My master will probably find this rather amusing." 

"Oh. I don't want you to get in trouble because of me." 

For a long moment, they just stood there, holding each other, calming each other. Gently, Luca took one of Kendrik's hands, only to make a startled sound. 

"Goodness, is this blood? Kendrik, are you hurt? Are you alright?" 

Kendrik looked down at his blood-splattered hands, feeling a feral grin growing on his face. 

"It's all Clive's, I think," he heard himself say. "I'm perfectly fine."

Luca's expression changed most remarkably. In the space of a few seconds, his huge, blue eyes went from horrified to surprised to daunted to incredibly turned on. 

"Really?" he whispered huskily, suppressing a small laugh. 

His lithe body leaned closer to Kendrik's, and this time, it wasn't for comfort. Luca took Kendrik's hand with both of his, eying the glittering blood with something between malicious glee and fear, then raised it to his mouth and started licking off the blood. First, just with the tip of his tongue, then by taking Kendrik's index and middle finger into his mouth completely. 

With the remaining adrenalin still coursing through is blood, Kendrik didn't even manage to waste a single thought on how questionable this whole moment was. The only thing the realized what how incredibly turned on he was by Luca's look and the way he licked his fingers. How incredibly soothing Luca's honest arousal was in contrast to all those sick games being played around them. How much he longed to be with him. 

They barely made it onto the bed.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having pried a first clue from Baron Yuri during their date, Kendrik goes on the hunt for conspirators…

"Oh my god, you really did?" Kendrik leaned back, a beaming expression of scandalized awe on his face. "I could never have dared anything like that." 

"Well, of course not," the dark-haired noble sitting next to him replied, just a little condescendingly. "You're just a slave. You shouldn't even think of such things."

Kendrik laughed, nodding, gently patting his companion's hand that rested leisurely on Kendrik's knee. They were sitting in the dakka den, heavy smoke curling around them in lazy lines. On the stage, a set of drummers, a harpist and a sitar player provided some gently throbbing background music that blended comfortably with the chatter of the patrons. 

The dakka den had been almost fully booked for Kendrik's performance, tonight. And once again, the audience had been pleasantly surprised by the emotional depth of Kendrik's performance. Sure, Kendrik had been somewhat cheating, but never the less he glowed with the success. Especially as this evening had been an unqualified success in more than one way - while mingling with the guests afterwards, Kendrik spotted two young Dracon among the audience that fit Baron Yuri's description all but perfectly. 

Admittedly, Yuri's mental image had been colored by his opinion, so the man wasn't as weasely and the woman not as nervous as Kendrik had perceived them through Yuri's eyes. But it was them, and it had taken Kendrik only very little coaxing to get them to invite him into their alcove. 

Now they were sitting here, on a large pile of comfortable pillows, sharing a bottle of ridiculously good Shirazan wine, chatting. Lounging closely together, it had been easy to get them to touch Kendrik - he was lying to the left of him, absentmindedly fondling Kendrik's leg, while she was playing with his hair, lying on her back and leaning her head against his chest. 

It turned out the two were twins - brother and sister, Gaetano and Corazon Dracon. Their mother had married a Castella, and for whatever reason had decided to allow him to name their children. Mostly, they went with Guy and Cora on Serin, to keep the confusion at a minimum. 

Just now, Guy had been boasting about some daring ploy the two of them had recently pulled off to make an old adversary lose face and to gain some more standing among their peers. Kendrik had to admit, these two were sly bastards and pretty bold. They might just be part of the conspiracy he was looking for, and so he had all intention to dig deeper. 

"Of course I shouldn't, as a slave," Kendrik replied with wide eyes, carefully keeping his senses on how much he could ham up his lies until the two of them started to get suspicious. "But aren't you, like, the fourth son of a Baronet? I mean, angering the sister of a Count is a risky thing, even for you."

In a normal conversation, Guy might have managed to brush this off with a laugh. But Kendrik had guessed right, and the tiny flicker of indignation was all that he had been waiting for. Swiftly, he took a hold of that emotion, feeding it until he could hear Guy grinding his teeth. 

"With such a low rank, you got to be careful." Kendrik added just for good measure, trying to appear as doe-eyed and harmless as he possibly could on the outside. Guy and Cora weren't straining his acting talents too much, though. 

"Fortunately," Guy pressed out after a moment, "we live in a time where low rank is not a fate one has to live with. For those who are smart and courageous, there are always options." 

"Really, Guy?" his sister asked from Kendrik's other side, her speech a little slurred and mellow from the dakka she had been smoking. "That old speech again?" 

"Oh, please let him," Kendrik interjected, looking down at her with a sultry smile. "I would love hearing it. After all, it allows me to dream with you. Maybe one day, I can talk about the mighty Baron Guy and his lovely sister, who I knew when they were still no-names on Serin." 

This time, his back-handed little insult hit both of them. 

"We won't be no-names for long," Cora snarled, sitting up a little, her arm coming to rest on Kendrik's hand. "And I don't think we're going to settle for a measly barony." 

"Not?" Kendrik smiled at her, biting his lower lip in that hungry way he had learned from Luca. It probably looked ridiculous on him, but right now, he had sufficient body contact with both of them that they took whatever he said and did for the real thing. After all, trust was an emotion. "That sounds like you'll have a choice to make your pick from."

Cora only grinned like a predator in return, picking Kendrik's chin and kissing him with a little more teeth than he usually liked. 

"Oh please tell me," Kendrik begged anyway, kindling their hormone-fuelled desire to please him. "Just a little bit." 

"But that would be dangerous," Guy remarked, half warning, half enticing, his hand sneaking further up Kendrik's leg.

"But I love dangerous..." Kendrik purred, his fingers wandering up Guy's arm.

Inside, Kendrik was struggling to keep himself from laughing. 

Before he had come to the Garden, when he had been able to use his powers to their full extent, he had ever only used them to read or convey surface feelings, or occasionally elicit fear or trust in someone. He had been strong, but ridiculously blunt.   
Only now that his powers were hampered to a point that he felt like a cripple, he started to learn how to use the finer skills nature had given him. He was manipulating two people into telling him secrets that could get them killed, and he was hardly doing anything but talking to them. 

"So if it's not a barony," Kendrik nudged again, "Will it be a county?"

"More than that," Cora whispered. She leaned back again, opening the top of her blouse, beginning to caress her breasts without really thinking about it.

"A duchy, then?" Kendrik asked, pulling Cora into a closer embrace with his free arm, tracing a line from her collarbone to her earlobe with a fingernail. 

"More than that," Guy whispered on the other side. By now, he was half lying on top of Kendrik's legs, his hand resting on Kendrik's hip, as if still struggling to decide whether to fondle front or back. 

"More than a duchy? How naughty..." Kendrik replied, breathless. In the minds of the two nobles, he could feel images flit just underneath their conscious thoughts, images of clandestine meetings, of things they should never talk about, never even think about clearly outside the Secret Garden. "So, we're talking about... one of the Noble Houses?" 

Cora gave a mean little chuckle, her body arching warm and eager against Kendrik's side. She took his free hand and led it down along her belly to her crotch, pressing it firmly against herself. 

"More. Than. That." she whispered into Kendrik's ear. 

"Oh please. You're making fun of me." Looking from one to another, Kendrik knew he couldn't press them much further without them noticing they were being manipulated. They were already way beyond the point that they would usually talk about. But he had to try. "You're aiming for the throne? Just the two of you?" 

"Not just us," Guy whispered, his hand deciding for a thorough groping of Kendrik's ass. But inside he was growing cautious, realizing how much even such hints could get him into trouble. "But that's really nothing a slave needs to know."

Suddenly, Kendrik could grab images of their allies from their minds, clear impressions of who they trusted, of the men and woman they were working with to get a shot at the Phoenix Throne. Kendrik even caught a few names, but that was almost unnecessary by now. 

He had faces, at least two confirmed names, and a vague idea where inside the Secret Garden they were meeting. The rest could be gathered from the surveillance cameras that were so abundant in this place where everything could be bought if the price was right. 

Guy continued fondling Kendrik's ass, his motions somewhere between reverential and impatient. His sister, in the meanwhile, had opened her blouse even further and put Kendrik's hand down on her breasts with clear command. He could feel that they both wanted him, and that they were planning on sharing him. Both their minds were bombarding him with images of Kendrik sandwiched between brother and sister, writhing in passion. Not the worst way to spend an evening, normally, but Kendrik could also feel how they were inside, their emotions, their hearts. And they weren't pretty. 

He'd very much prefer another night with Luca and his gleeful way of realizing just how innocent his big, strong boyfriend actually was. 

In his arms, Cora took Kendrik's hand from her breast and pushed it down her crotch, pressing against him hot and full of need. 

"What do you think," Guy suggested huskily. "Shall we move somewhere more private?" 

"He can do me right here," Cora moaned, "Who the fuck cares?"

Guy's expression clearly showed that he cared, and quite a bit actually. But it seemed they had had this discussion already a few times, and Guy relented wordlessly. 

This was slowly getting too hot for Kendrik to like, and besides, he probably had all the information from them he would ever need. Pretending to be startled by something just at the fringe of his vision, Kendrik looked up. 

"I am awfully sorry," he said to the two of them, gently beginning to untangle himself from their limbs. "But I am afraid my time here is up. My master demands my presence elsewhere." 

"What?" Guy growled, looking around. "Now?!"

"I am sorry, Master," Kendrik apologized. "I am not a member of the staff, only borrowed for a while. I could sent you someone else, if you like..."

"Aww..." Cora mewled softly, falling back into the pillows, her hands pawing after Kendrik's curls. "Just a few more minutes." 

"I am sorry, Lady Cora." Leaning down to her again, he gave her a gentle kiss, allowing her to play with his hair just a moment longer. "This one was on the house." 

Kendrik still wasn't too sure if those two were actually involved in the conspiracy that Li Ma had sent him to uproot, but it felt pretty close. Close enough to warrant a call home and see if he had found the right people. Maybe his stay here wouldn't last much longer. 

He rose and straightened the sleeveless robe he had been wearing, tossing his hair over one shoulder as he walked away. As on the other nights before, he could feel a wave of fascination and desire running through the place. 

It wasn't so much the color of his hair or his curls that caused this reaction, Ryan had explained to him the other day. It was this kind of hair on a man like Kendrik. While his body was that of a athlete, he moved with a warrior's unselfconscious security, and yet his hair looked luxuriously sensual. It was an odd, contradictory mix, and still it looked perfectly natural on him. 

'The perfect congruity of nature', as Ryan had called it. 'Even the weirdest shit fits seamlessly if it's Her doing. No way faking that.'

Kendrik smiled at the memory of Ryan's expression, a mix of envy, fascination and amusement. 

He suspected that there was a little more to the whole thing than just his hair, but he wasn't too sure. Carefully tuned to the way he was carrying himself in public as his senses were now, Kendrik had realized that he indeed was moving differently. He had stopped 'stomping', and instead moved a little more gracefully, a little more like the dancer his mother would have loved him to become. Kendrik really liked the way he looked, the way he was able to turn heads where ever he walked by, and it was doing something to him. He wasn't yet sure what, but it was new. 

Passing the door that led out of the dakka den towards the bowels of the Secret Garden, Kendrik stopped at one of the servants. 

"I'll need a room for a moment," he told the young woman who looked at him attentively. "Is there anything free around here?" 

"Sure," she replied, smiling. "Down the corridor, seventh door to the left. The chapel should be free for at least another hour. Do you need anything else?" 

"No, thank you." Kendrik replied just as politely. "If anything comes up, I'll call."

Once you had a certain standing among the talents of the Secret Garden, no one asked why you needed anything. A unicycle? A set of thirteen obsidian daggers, a vat of butter and a living shark? This place catered to the rich and idle of the Empire, and there was hardly anything left that would raise an eyebrow. As long as it served to bring in money, anything the whores needed for their work would be arranged. A room was positively pedestrian. 

Silently, Kendrik wondered how many of his colleagues used this little loophole to gain a little bit of rest from their work and the constant observation, treating themselves once in a while to the luxuries that were meant for their customers. He would have to ask Luca and Ryan about that, they'd most probably know. 

Once Kendrik had reached the door the servant girl had mentioned, he braced himself and walked through. As expected, he ended up in one of the meticulously designed fake worlds that were so overabundant in this place. This time, it was a small church, complete with late afternoon sunlight slanting through stained glass windows and the smell of dust and incense hanging heavily in the air. 

Kendrik looked around for a moment, taking in the place. He was sure the confessional had seen more than its fair share of sinful actions, and probably the altar as well. And yet, the place conveyed a serenity that was impressive, and a beauty that once again spoke highly of the set designers working for the Secret Garden. 

He walked down the aisle in silence, gave a perfunctory nod to the altar and then settled down on one of the first benches, kneeling as if in deep prayer. Not a bad disguise for what he was about to do. 

\-- Yaden? Can you hear me? -- he thought. 

It took him a while, and a few repetitions, but then he managed to get through the toxic background of the place and through to his husband. 

\-- Kendrik? Are you alright? Shall I come and get you out? -- 

Kendrik had to smile at his husband's acute urge to burn the place down. It was a good feeling to know that there was someone unthinkingly willing to rain down death and destruction at Kendrik's mere thought. But he wouldn't need to, at least not tonight. 

\-- I am fine. -- Kendrik reassured him, adding a few images of him singing and laughing at the dakka den for illustration. -- It was a good evening. --

\-- Really. -- Yaden obviously wasn't convinced. In his eyes, no evening any of them had to spend apart from the family dinner table could be a good one. 

\-- Really. -- Beaming with pride, Kendrik added: -- I think I found them. -- 

\-- Who? --

\-- The conspirators, dear. The ones I was sent here to find? -- 

\-- Really? You did it? -- 

\-- Was there ever a doubt I would? -- Kendrik asked back, only half mocking. 

Yaden hesitated a moment, his careful deliberation translating into a smooth, gray feeling over their telepathic connection, mixed with the sensation of a polite request to give him a moment to sort out his answer. 

\-- No, no doubt you would find them, -- he finally answered. -- I am just surprised it worked this fast. And it went much smoother than I had dared to hope for. --

\-- I got lucky. -- Kendrik replied lightly, though he couldn't quite hide the fact that he thought some of that luck was due to his hard work. Not all, of course, but at least some. -- Should I give the names to you or should I contact Li Ma directly? --

\-- Give them to me. I'll inform the Commander, then. -- 

Not really in the mood for words, Kendrik sent him the impression of a nod, followed by a condensed package of his own memories. Within less time than it took Kendrik to take a single breath, he had given Yaden all the information he had been able to gather on Guy and Cora and their little network of conspirators. 

He could sense Yaden sort through the facts, both professionally checking if they amounted to sufficient evidence and beamingly proud at his husband's neat work. 

\-- I think this is all we need, -- Yaden finally decided. -- Shall we inform 'the Duke' that your stay is over? --

This time, it was Kendrik who hesitated. 

\-- What is it, love? -- Yaden asked.

\-- I don't think I should leave right now. There's... still some things I need to take care of. -- 

Yaden's surprise was evident through their connection. 

\-- Are you sure? I mean, anything you need, love, but, really? You want to stay longer in the Secret Garden then necessary? --

Kendrik had to smile at his husband's choice of words. Of course, they weren't really words, but that was beside the point right now. 

\-- Oh you can bet your pretty little ass that I will be out of here the very second it is no longer necessary. -- he replied. -- Maybe I'm done with what the Empire needed me to do, but I can't leave like this. -- 

\-- Luca? -- Yaden asked, apparently having snatched the thought somewhere from the back of Kendrik's mind. 

\-- Yes, Luca. -- Again, Kendrik hesitated, feeling Yaden's mild surprise at his own insecurity. -- I don't know exactly what I am going to do. -- 

\-- Are you not going to bring him home?! -- 

Once again, Yaden's heartfelt reaction stopped Kendrik's thoughts dead in their tracks.

\-- You wouldn't mind? --

\-- I would mind if you left him there. I mean, I know how you feel about him, you remember? And besides, it would only suit a man of your standing to have a pet, finally. -- 

At the thought of owning an underage boy as a 'pet', Kendrik felt his stomach churn. His mother would disown him on the spot if she ever learned about it, and his sister... Better not think in that direction at all. What was this Empire doing to him? 

And yet, despite everything, buying Luca seemed like the perfectly right thing to do, especially when compared to the consequences of not buying him. 

\-- I still have to think about it. -- he finally sent in Yaden's direction. -- And besides, it's not only Luca. All the others here... --

\-- You can't always save them all. -- Yaden replied, his words heavy with the memory that this had been a hard-learned lesson for himself as well. 

\-- I know. But I have to find a way to leave this mess so I can still live with myself. -- 

Through their connection, Yaden sent him the sensation of a warm, understanding embrace, carrying the same, mountain-like calm that he radiated in person. 

\-- Whatever you do, just remember that I am ever only a single thought away.-- Yaden said with the mental image of a smile. -- And whatever you come up with, I will support you. --

That last thought came with the distinct note that Yaden's support was indeed as unconditional as he had worded it. He trusted Kendrik to do the right thing, and whatever that ended up to be, he would be there to back him up. Up to and including pulling rank as a representative of the Emperor, and sorting out the mess later. 

In return, Kendrik just sent him his love. 

\-- I'll figure something out, -- Kendrik concluded. -- And I'll let you know when my 'master' should demand my return. -- 

\-- I'll be here, love. -- 

\-- Just a few more days, then I'll be home. Kiss the others from me. --

They dissolved their link with a last image of a loving hug. Kendrik remained sitting in the chapel, thinking about his time here, about the people he had met. About Ondine and Ryan, Mia and Leighton and all the others. About Luca, of course. About the nobles that used them. About the options he had. 

It took him quite a while. 

Finally, he forced himself back up onto his feet, groaning after the long time he had spent basically motionless. But at least, he had a plan now. 

With swift steps, he walked back towards the dakka den, where he was sure he would be able to find a member of the staff even at this time of the night. And as if she hadn't left, there was still the young servant girl waiting near the door. 

"You're still here," Kendrik started with the obvious. 

"And you are back already," she replied, her plain face open and just a little mocking. 

"I need to have a message sent to Baron Yuri. Can you arrange that or is there someone else I should talk to?" 

"As long as you are allowed outside contact, it will be sufficient to give me your message. I'll take care of the rest."

"Oh, I am quite sure this will be no problem." With a wide smile, Kendrik wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Please inform Baron Yuri, in these words exactly, that I have a little surprise planned for the horny old goat, and that I expect him to visit me tomorrow in the late afternoon."

The girl raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"Oh yes. I'm very sure. It'll be quite the... educating event. To both of us."


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Educating Baron Yuri proves an interesting task for all involved…

Now that he knew Baron Yuri was inside the building, Kendrik was beginning to have second thoughts. 

Was he really sure he knew what he was doing? No, actually not at all. But Kendrik still had that idea that Yuri could be one of the good guys, kind and caring. Well, probably never exactly charming or gracious, but kind. He just wasn't sure at all he knew how to show him the way. 

All he knew was that he had to try. And that meant talking to him, and skin contact. In an environment where Yuri would feel both safe and distracted.

Together with Ryan and Luca, Kendrik had gone through the old files the Secret Garden still had on Yuri's previous visits, looking for clues. He hadn't told them what exactly he was planning, only that he was looking for a farewell gift for Yuri. He was sure they had kept the worst of it from him, but even so, what little he had learned had driven his disgust about this whole place to new levels.   
Never the less, they had found a setting that ought to have pleasant memories for Yuri, and one that would offer Kendrik a plausible environment to put on something very close to the white uniform of House Habichtswald. 

One of the many pocket universes inside the Secret Garden was a classroom. Nothing special, one would say, but this one was still in the style they would have been on a Habichtswald world before the war. The equipment, the maps on the walls, even the holographic view from the windows screamed 'Habichtswald elite boarding school'. From what they had gathered from Yuri's file, it ought to be quite the turn-on for him already.

On the little screen next to the door, Kendrik could see a servant leading Yuri inside that very classroom he had booked for tonight. Seeing Yuri and knowing that he was on the other side of the door Kendrik was waiting at by now was sufficient to allow him at least a vague sense of Yuri's emotions.   
And right now, the old man was startled out of words, surprised and confused; unease and anticipation battling inside. He didn't know what to expect, and in Kendrik's eyes, that was a very good thing. 

For a moment longer, Kendrik watched as Yuri walked through the room, reminiscing, trailing his fingers along the desks, the blackboard. He smiled when he found the cane, sitting in its corner by the teacher's desk. Finally, he paused at one of the large windows, looking out onto the school yard and the orchards beyond, at the gently rolling hills under a bright blue summer sky. 

Taking this as his cue, Kendrik took a last deep breath and opened the door in front of him. It led into a short corridor that in turn led into the classroom Baron Yuri was waiting in right now. Stepping inside, Kendrik had to concentrate hard not to break into a beaming grin at Yuri's audible gasp, followed by a deep wave of surprise, awe and desire. 

"Master Principal," Kendrik said as firmly as he could manage. "You demanded to see me."

Still standing at the window, Baron Yuri grabbed the windowsill for support, his mouth working soundlessly. Kendrik could feel him struggling with what he saw, and that meant he had picked exactly the right outfit for this occasion. 

Naturally, the Secret Garden had a whole host of Habichtswald uniforms, and quite a lot of them cadet uniforms of the various military schools the House had supported. But military hadn't been the right tone for what Kendrik was planning, so he had picked something a little different. 

Standing at the rear of the classroom, Kendrik was wearing the outfit of a school's polo team captain, the cap in his hands, complete with gloves and skintight pants and riding boots, his hair in a neat braid on his back.   
And of course, the uniform was all in white, except for the crest of some very posh, very old, and very extinct Habichtswald elite school on his chest. If he had guessed right, 'Habichtswald school team captain' had to be as close to Dracon catnip as possible. 

And by the prolonged, stammering silence of Baron Yuri, his assessment seemed to have been spot on. 

"You!" Baron Yuri finally pressed out, torn between disbelief and excitement. "You... are... a very naughty boy. So very naughty."

The last words had been more of a compliment than an insult. Baron Yuri was clearly impressed, and that in itself was a remarkable feat. 

"Master Principal," Kendrik replied, trying to match Yuri's expectations as closely as possible. "I really don't see what I have done wrong."

"Oh, I am sure there is something, else we wouldn't be here, would we?" Yuri replied smoothly, almost growling. Maybe it had been decades that he had used this classroom to play, but he still remembered the game perfectly. "Why don't you tell me?"

"If you are referring to what happened in the showers, Master Principal, I can assure you that there was nothing questionable involved." Kendrik replied, still acting defiant. "Just a few blokes having fun after a game."

Luca had drilled at least a the most important Habichtswald signal words into Kendrik at the very last moment. Apparently, there was also a sort of accent that would have suited his role nicely, but Kendrik knew that his acting skills were rather limited. He would have to be content with what he could wing by and cheat a little by glossing things over with his psionic skills. 

"A few blokes?" Yuri replied, chuckling both with amusement and disbelief. "Let me guess, you were all naked."

"Some of us were dressed, at least in parts," Kendrik denied, more and more getting to like this game. "We were taking a shower, as it is only proper after an exhausting game."

"I see." Still chuckling, Yuri walked over to the teacher's desk and leaned against the corner. "Tell me what happened then."

His voice had taken a deeper note, interested now in what Kendrik had prepared for him. 

"Nothing," Kendrik replied, trying to stay in character. "We... were wrestling, in the showers, just for fun. And then one of the boys got a little more excited than the others."

"Excited? What exactly do I have to understand there?"

"He got... excited." Trying to look embarrassed, Kendrik made a rising gesture with his hand. "You know, like boys do."

Despite trying to keep a straight face, Yuri couldn't suppress another chuckle. But he caught himself quickly enough and returned to his role of stern headmaster. 

"How improper," he proclaimed, though again it sounded just a bit more fascinated than appalled. 

"We were just joking about it," Kendrik continued, "but all the attention only seemed to make matters worse." 

"Oh I can imagine that."

"It turned out to be contagious, somehow, Master Principal." 

"I see." By now, Yuri had the 'grim teacher' voice down pat. "Let me guess, from there you decided you take matters in your own hands?" 

"Oh Master Principal, we would never...!" Kendrik looked down with embarrassment, partially allowing his psionic senses guiding his performance. "Yes, Master."

"So you are telling me that my polo team horned each other up in the showers and then initiated a little circle jerk until the coach came in?" 

For whatever reason, Kendrik managed to look positively mortified when he looked up again at Yuri. 

"That... is a very crude way of wording the events," Kendrik replied, scraping by at the edge of his acting skills. But so far, Yuri didn't seem to mind, actually, he seemed rather comfortable with the whole setup. His mind was roiling like a cloud, aroused with the imagery Kendrik offered him both real and in his little story, and the options he was seeing ahead. 

"You are aware that I will have to punish you, aren't you?" Yuri asked, a note of anticipation in his voice. "Harshly. As your team's captain, you will have to take full responsibility for your team's actions."

Pretty much as Kendrik has expected, the first option Yuri saw was to add some sort of violence and domination into the game. But Kendrik had no intention of playing meek. Instead, he was trying to teach an old dog a new trick. A very old dog, at that, and a very unheard-of trick. 

"Of course I take full responsibility, Master Principal," Kendrik replied, still in perfect keeping with what Yuri expected of him. "But please tell me, Sir, what have we done wrong?" 

This, now, was neither overwrought propriety of the Habichtswald nor lewd invitation to Dracon violence. Yuri, already half-way across the room towards the cane, blinked at him in consternation. 

"You are supposed to beg, now," Yuri reminded him, Dracon now, through and through. 

But Kendrik only replied with a derisive noise. "I don't beg." 

That settled, Kendrik forced himself back into his role, licking his lips as if remembering something entirely inappropriate but oh so delicious. "It felt so good, Sir, and we all had so much fun. How can that be wrong?"

For a moment, Yuri was visibly struggling to reconcile the voices in his head. On the one hand, he was well in the mood to slap down Kendrik for his insolence, for his audacity to change the way this game was played, and then flog the living daylights out of him as it was only proper. But on the other hand, there was a tiny voice inside of him insisting that maybe, he was old enough to dare walk in a new direction, even though he had no clue where this would lead. And besides, it wasn't as if the last dozen of slaves he had beaten black and blue had brought him any particular pleasure.

Silently, Kendrik tried to concentrate and reach Yuri with his psionic powers. But each time, he felt convinced he could only fail, a sentiment he had by now learned only too well meant that he was unable to overcome the local background radiation. It worked easily enough when he was singing, but that would somewhat defy the purpose of the whole setup here. Kendrik knew that once Yuri was sufficiently aroused and focused on Kendrik, it would have the same effect. Luca had proven that particular trick often enough.   
But right now, Yuri was still too guarded, slightly too caught up in his old routines to notice Kendrik as a proper person, to build up that personal connection that was so important. 

"Master, of course I know we were just fooling around, there," Kendrik tried another angle. "We are just boys, after all. Maybe, if we'd have someone to teach us..."

This time, Yuri blinked and gave an insecure smirk. Kendrik could feel that he was out of his waters, but not necessarily opposed to what Kendrik was implying. He just had no idea how to react. This wasn't the way he had ever played this. 

"Master, you are such a good teacher, I promise this would be a lesson I'd not doze through," Kendrik continued, shifting his weight in a way that would nicely pronounce his skin-tight outfit. "And I bet you are very experienced..."

Kendrik managed to bring out the last sentence almost as a hungry purr, and it finally did the trick. As if a spotlight turned into his direction, he could feel Yuri's attention latch onto him, not his body or the role he presented, but HIM. Instantly, Kendrik could feel Yuri's emotions much more clearly, and finally he had a chance to manipulate them. 

"So, if I wanted to make you feel good," Kendrik continued in that low purr that was more hungry cat than insecure schoolboy, "How should I start?" 

Yuri still looked at Kendrik a little at a loss, not really sure what to say. But now that Kendrik had him on a leash, he was not going to let him go again any time soon. Slowly walking over to Yuri, Kendrik made sure the Noble remained fully concentrated on his arousal, allowing Yuri's unspoken desires to influence how he walked, how he presented himself. It seemed the old man was immensely turned on by a slave who didn't fear him even though he was intelligent enough to know the risks, who took him on as an equal, not in rank, but as a human, and didn't act cowed or impressed by his antics. The fact that Kendrik was a lot taller, younger and impressively athletic helped quite a bit, too. 

But somewhere, in the depth of his mind, Yuri also knew that Kendrik didn't find him appalling, didn't do any of this because he was forced to or thought he had to. In his eyes, Kendrik was a man who just wanted to share a good time with him, no strings attached. 

And that was something so unheard of, so barely credible, that it was sexy all by itself. 

"Would you like me to touch you, Sir?" Kendrik asked when he was about a step away from Yuri. "Or would you rather touch me?" 

Almost imperceptibly, Yuri shook his head, still wondering what exactly he was doing there. Almost cautiously, he reached out and touched Kendrik's chest, his palm resting against the fabric of his shirt. 

It was a simple gesture, just a man feeling for the warmth of another body. But through their empathic connection, Kendrik realized just how alien this was to Yuri. 

He had never before been intimate with anyone he didn't own in one way or another. He had only touched them with the desire to control, to dominate, to hurt. He had never been touched with anything but fear or aggression. The way he just looked for physical contact with Kendrik was the first time in his life that he felt there might be anything else worth trying. 

It was kind of hot, Kendrik suddenly realized. A two-hundred-fifty year old virgin.

"Do you like touching me?" Kendrik asked, softly, taking great care not to become too sappy. Getting Yuri to accept anything near real tenderness would need a miracle, not a pretty psion. "It's a hot body, I agree with you." 

Yuri chuckled softly. "Indeed it is." His voice sounded husky, hungry, while he let his hand wander down Kendrik's stomach. "Why do you do this?" 

"Because I want to." Kendrik could clearly feel that the time for playing dress-up was over now. "You're quite a bastard, but you're not evil. I want to get to know you." 

If there was a spark of distrust in Yuri's mind, Kendrik quenched it instantly. Right now, he believed every word Kendrik said. 

"You're not my usual type," Kendrik admitted, firmly taking Yuri's hand and putting it where the tight material of his shirt had slipped out of his pants and exposed half an inch of bare skin. "But I am curious. And this is how I will learn most about you." 

"So that is why you picked the classroom," Yuri remarked, silently impressed that he always forgot Kendrik was a lot smarter than the usual whores he had known in his time. Pulling Kendrik closer by his belt, he asked: "Tell me, how is this going to continue?" 

"No idea," Kendrik replied with a wide smile. "But you've been staring at my body ever since you've spotted me in the shadows of the strip club. So why don't you take a closer look and see if it's all you were looking for?"

Yuri gave a sound that was half laughter, half hungry growl. The fingers of one hand still hooked in Kendrik's belt, he looked at Kendrik's eyes, as if trying to find some sort of answer there. Kendrik could feel he was searching for a reason why Kendrik was doing all this. Knowing that he wasn't particularly attractive and hadn't been exactly charming, there was still a spark of nagging distrust in the back of his mind, a tiny, relentless voice insisting on telling him someone like Kendrik had to have some other kind of motive. 

"Don't tell me you are worried I have some weird, sinister agenda for doing this," Kendrik said, just a little mocking. "Can't you really believe I like my job? You've got such big balls for me; it's starting to turn me on, too." Smiling, Kendrik added a little, self-conscious shrug. "Makes me something of a slut, but that's a good thing in this job."

With a tiny, insecure smile, Yuri nodded. Of course, Kendrik's story was quite thin, and he did INDEED have other plans - but as they were now close enough for their auras to overlap, Yuri couldn't help but believe every word that Kendrik said, as long as they were at least partially credible. 

So when Kendrik took Yuri's free hand and put it down onto his crotch, Yuri didn't hesitate. Instead, he took a deep breath and relaxed, finally accepting that there was something good happening to him, something that he had neither forced nor bought. 

And damn, he was hot for Kendrik. His mind was so consumed with lust that some of it even spilled over to Kendrik's mind. When he said earlier that Yuri's desire turned him on, Kendrik had thought it a convenient lie. Right now, it was true, even though it was only a side effect of their empathic connection that Kendrik could have easily blocked. But why should he have? It didn't do any harm, instead, it made it a lot more interesting for Kendrik, and so much easier. 

"You really enjoy this," Yuri said, a little astonished as his fingers trailed along Kendrik's nicely hardening cock in his tight white polo pants. "Or did they drug you?" 

"'They' would never dare to do anything with me," Kendrik replied with a chuckle. Flexing his hips so he better presented his bulge to Yuri, he added: "And why would I need drugs?"

"You probably wouldn't, right." His smile growing into a dirty little grin, Yuri asked: "You said something about unwrapping?" 

With a grin that matched Yuri's, Kendrik stretched and started unbuttoning his polo shirt at a maddeningly slow pace, taking a lot of time to make sure he had Yuri's full attention. Also, he used the time to try and ensure Yuri was not only mentally aroused, but also physically. It was only a matter of fanning the little sparks that were already there, of making sure there was enough new stuff that Yuri could desire and make him ignore everything that was just the same old to him. It took quite a bit of concentration from Kendrik, but on the other hand, slowly taking off a shirt wasn't exactly rocket science. 

Once finally shirtless, Kendrik flung the surprisingly small piece of fabric across the room, where it landed on the bust of some ancient military leader of the Phoenix Empire. 

"And now you," he said, looking down at Yuri, who blinked at him, having been completely absorbed in staring at Kendrik's pectorals. 

"What?"

"Now you get rid of yours," Kendrik repeated, playfully snipping at one of the buttons of Yuri's open uniform jacket. "Quid pro quo."

"I think that would be quite the turn-off for both of us..." Yuri replied, not shy or sad, but rather matter-of-factly. 

"You still haven't understood a word that I said, have you?" Kendrik answered, and before Yuri could say another word, Kendrik had grabbed him by the lapels of his jacked and hoisted him up onto the teacher's desk. 

"What the hell - " was all Yuri could say before Kendrik had grabbed him by the neck and sealed his mouth with a kiss. Not a tender, loving one, but the kind of kiss that spoke of desire, of the urge to get as much physical contact as humanly possible. For a heartbeat or two, Yuri was completely overwhelmed. But then he just let go and kissed back, throwing his centuries of trained paranoia overboard. He wanted Kendrik in every way possible, and a good fuck or whatever this was leading to was pretty much on top of that list. 

From there on, there was very little need for words. 

Swiftly, Kendrik had peeled Yuri out of his jacket and started opening the buttons of his black shirt, ripping off the fickle things as often as he didn't. Yuri, in turn, had his hands all over Kendrik's chest and back, a little clumsily trying to work around their height difference, but not really caring about appearances any longer. When Kendrik finally got him out of his shirt, Yuri had almost managed to open Kendrik's belt, and chuckled audibly when Kendrik pushed him back onto the table. 

"Holy fuck," he remarked huskily, "the last time I've been that hard must have been three Emperors ago." 

Sharing Yuri's arousal through their connection, Kendrik didn't find anything weird or off-putting at the remark. Instead, it was just a good thing, two horny men sharing their hottest sex in a long time. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kendrik realized that even now, he couldn't see Yuri as unpleasant as he had thought he would. Yes, Yuri was an old man with big belly and spindly legs, but there was still the memory of a younger Yuri present through their connection, a memory of the young hunter who had managed to capture the first dakka plant in the history of Serin. Also, Yuri was filled with images of Kendrik, a brazen and fierce creature that was smart and delicate enough to wrangle an old brute like Yuri into a state of slobbering excitement. With both of it filtering into Kendrik's mind, he didn't even have to put on a performance any longer. He really, really wanted to fuck now. 

With a guttural growl, he bent down and kissed Yuri's chest. He could see many old scars, so faded they were almost gone, but still each one was telling a story. Just like the scars on his own body, at least, those few the medics of the Phoenix Tower had left. Kendrik reached down between Yuri's legs, and found his cock as hard as his own. And what a nice cock Yuri had, Kendrik realized with slight surprise. Of average size, but straight and thick and just the right tool for quite a lot of naughty fun. The fact that Yuri himself was rather speechless about the fact that he was hard as a rock made it all the more a turn on for Kendrik, each of Yuri's stifled groans cheering him on, massaging his dick through the fabric of his uniform pants. 

With something of an effort of will, Yuri sat up again, a dirty grin plastered across his face. It made him look rakish, as if he was loosing a few decades with every minute he was spending with Kendrik. His eyes were all over Kendrik, taking him in with the clear intent not to forget a single second of this. His hands, though, were quietly busying themselves with opening Kendrik's belt and opening his pants, quite expertly freeing Kendrik's cock from its confines. 

Kendrik growled again as he felt the cool air around his cock and the rush of turning fully hard. With a smirk, he returned the favor and opened the trousers of Yuri's uniform. He had to struggle somewhat with the bulky underwear, which clearly showed Yuri hadn't expected to end up naked tonight. Stepping closer to Yuri again, he rubbed their dicks against each other, both hot and hard, grinning at the way Yuri's eyes lost their focus. He reached down and took both their dicks into his hand, massaging them together. 

Through their connection, Kendrik could feel Yuri realize that Kendrik had no intention of letting Yuri fuck him, and he struggled with the fact for a moment. 

"How... How are we going to proceed?" Yuri asked finally, his voice husky, his face leaning against Kendrik's shoulder. "Do you have a plan?"

"No plan," Kendrik replied, his free hand hold Yuri's head against him, almost embracing him. "Just going to do what feels good."

Instead of an answer, Yuri gave a soft moan. "This is quite good already..." 

Kendrik knew that somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Yuri was wondering why on earth he didn't insist on Kendrik spreading his legs for him. But that voice was easily pushed further back into the dark and silenced for good. They were both turned on, they were both enjoying what they did, and there was nothing wrong with not fucking. Besides, Kendrik insinuated through his empathic connection, Yuri was a Dracon. He didn't care one bit about what was proper and what not. If he decided not to rape this slave today, who would dare to tell him otherwise? 

"Look at me," Kendrik commanded, and Yuri followed almost instantly. 

Through his eyes, Kendrik felt like he could see directly into Yuri's soul, strong and vast, but desolate and dry. At least, it had been desolate until he had met Kendrik. Now his fascination was bringing life to him, excitement and insecurity, wonder and anticipation. And Kendrik had full intention of building on that. 

"Lean back," he ordered again, gently pushing Yuri back onto the desk he was still sitting on. 

With a swift motion, Kendrik got out of his pants, which thanks to some nifty velcro seams worked without having to get out of his riding boots first. He climbed on top of the desk next to Yuri, smiling widely as he felt a wave of admiration pour over him. Kendrik propped himself up on one elbow, looking down on Yuri, playfully laying his leg over Yuri's.

"You are so beautiful," Yuri said, insecure as to how to make an honest compliment. 

But Kendrik beamed in reply, making very sure Yuri realized how much that meant to him on an emotional level. 

"Thank you," he replied, reaching down and starting to stroke Yuri's cock again. "That is very kind of you." 

Yuri only smirked in reply, but inside, Kendrik drove this very point home with all the empathic muscle he had. If you were nice to people, nice people did nice things for you. And to you. And it could be better than anything you could get by force.   
Carefully, Kendrik embedded this cognition in Yuri's mind, tying it down with the pleasant memories they were making right now. Yuri didn't care one iota if this wasn't the usual service he got from the whores in the Secret Garden. The feedback loop Kendrik had established between them kept both of them turned on like teenagers, each one hot and horny because the other one was hot and horny, and happy about it. 

And it had the nice side effect that neither of them was in the mood for anything prolonged. Instead, Yuri grabbed for Kendrik's cock and started massaging him as well, not fast, but firmly, their eyes locked in a way they could feel each other's arousal as directly as with their hands.   
After a few moments, Kendrik slung his free arm around Yuri's neck and pulled him closer, until they could feel each other's breath, their mouths open, panting. 

It wasn't easy for Kendrik to keep things as controlled as he wanted them to be. He had to keep up the feedback loop while at the same time making sure that he didn't share his own thoughts and emotions with Yuri too obviously. Also, he tried to make this one of the best orgasms Yuri had had in a very long time, to make this a memorable event that would last as a long-term anchor for the new ideas he was planting in Yuri's mind, and all that while someone was quite expertly giving him a handjob. 

In the end, Kendrik focused exclusively onto their approaching orgasms, making sure there was nothing but their mutual arousal passing through the empathic connection. Still with their eyes locked, they approached their peak in tandem, Kendrik trying to make the last moments last as long as possible, those precious seconds where one hovered at the edge of the cliff, not yet falling, but already beyond the point of no return. 

When finally Kendrik couldn't hold it any longer, he released his grip on Yuri's mind. They both came instantly, simultaneously, hard and loud and jerking with the intensity that wrecked their bodies, uncaring about anything else. 

For a long moment, they lay beside each other, still panting, smiling. 

"Holy shit," Yuri finally said; his voice coarse. "Fuck, that was hot." 

Turning around to face Kendrik, his expression was full of honest surprise and intrigue. "Damn you are one hot item. No wonder your owner doesn't want to sell you, even though you're a complete moron when it comes to being a proper pet." 

"Seems you prefer improper pets, then, these days," Kendrik replied cheekily, wiping his hand clean on Yuri's uniform. "But this was quite hot, indeed. Thank you." 

Yuri blinked, twice, taken aback at the realization that this was the first time in his life anyone had ever thanked him for the good sex. 

"You are welcome," he replied, a little hesitant. 

Kendrik beamed at him, once more using this little moment to cement Yuri's newfound conception that being nice might lead to nice things in return. Even if it merely was an honest smile on a pretty whore. 

"So, do you have other plans for tonight?" Kendrik asked, still smiling. "I am free tonight, and as long as you don't have to be off on some sinister business, we could spend some more time together. I would like that." 

Again, Yuri blinked insecure, but smiled, too. "Yes. That would be nice, I think." 

"Great." Sitting up, Kendrik stretched like a cat. "So what about we clean ourselves up and then we go for dinner?" 

"Fine with me."

"Have you ever had Youh'Kai barbecue? It's hot, but pretty awesome." 

"No, never." Even without their empathic connection, it was pretty clear that Yuri considered such food way below his status.

"Great, than that's what we'll have tonight," Kendrik decided for the two of them, his grin showing Yuri that he was quite well aware that this wasn't even remotely how a pet was supposed to act. "I think I overheard someone talking about the Garden having a proper sh'been, and I'd love to try the food there." 

"Do I get any say in the matter?" Yuri inquired, only half-mocking. 

"No." Kendrik bent down and kissed Yuri on the cheek. "But you get to decide where we'll go after that." 

Shaking his head, Yuri seemed rather smitten with the turn of events. 

"You are one of a kind, you know that?" he asked, quite honestly wording his feelings. 

"You have no idea." Still wearing nothing but his white riding boots, Kendrik winked and grabbed Yuri by the belt of his trousers. "Come on, I'll show you the way to the showers."


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To wrap up his mission and leave behind a situation he can live with, Kendrik returns to the Secret Garden one last time…

Oddly, Madam Tochka was pretty exactly how Kendrik had imagined her to be. A tall, elderly Lady of striking poise and little illusions, Madam Tochka seemed like a living avatar of her establishment. She didn’t really care about the fate of the whores working for her, but neither did she want to inflict more suffering than necessary. A good businesswoman, Kendrik found, though definitely not a good woman. 

It had taken Kendrik longer than he had wanted to get a personal meeting with her. Even the only Ambassador of a neighboring Empire was just one of many dignitaries demanding a share of her time. So he had spent a whole, nailbiting day until he could return to the Secret Garden, this time under his real name, with all the political firepower that included. 

But twenty-four hours were a long time, and a lot could go wrong in the Secret Garden in a lot less. If anything had happened to Luca, Kendrik would never forgive himself. 

Despite having had enough time on his hands, Kendrik hadn’t yet visited the doctors to reverse the changes they had made to his appearance in preparation for this mission. He had grown to like the new Kendrik, and the reaction of his spouses had only cemented this feeling. Yaden and Colin had been... rather enthusiastic, Teagan somewhat dismissive, and Jenny had literally decided that she wanted his children, now. They would have to have a few firm words about this once the matters in the Secret Garden were settled for good. But none the less, he liked being pretty, and he liked the way his looks suddenly made his talents so much easier to use. His stay in the Secret Garden had changed him, and his new look was something he definitely wanted to keep. 

Of course, this created a certain risk of someone noticing the similarities between Kendrik, the pet, and Lord Aquila of Caelius, Ambassador of House Aquila. Most probably, though, they would assume someone had modeled his pet after a foreign noble, or that said noble had modeled his looks after some pet. Either way, the chances that someone would end up suspecting them to be one and the same person were negligible. 

So when he sat down on the comfortable chair opposing Madam Tochka, Kendrik was busy figuring out how to sit like a very handsome noble, and neither like a soldier or a pet. At least, his newly acquired pet skills were sometimes useful in real life, too. 

“Ambassador Aquila,” Madam Tochka opened their conversation, her gray eyes keenly analyzing. “I have to admit I am a little surprised that a man wants to talk about buying one of my talents without ever having been here before. At least, as far as I know.”

The last sentence was ringing with the warning that she was extremely sure that she was well informed about anything that happened within her establishment. Kendrik’s request intrigued her, making her wonder what little fascinating detail she had overlooked. 

“First of all,” Kendrik replied with a polite bow of his head, “I have to thank you for seeing me on such a short notice. And second, what a luck that the ‘why’ is of no importance once the ‘how much’ is settled.”

This brought a smile to Madam Tochka’s thin lips. “Oh, I see. A very professional attitude, if I may say so, Excellency. Now, who is it, then?” 

“Actually, it is two of your talents.” Kendrik replied, handing her a small slip of paper with two names on it. “And just so we are on the same page here. I am not leaving without the papers for those two. I am extremely flexible about the price, though.”

Again, Madam Tochka gave him an intrigued smile, almost flirting with him. But her smile slipped badly once she looked at the paper and read the two names. 

“What a bold request, Excellency.” Her voice had taken a steely edge that was more of a warning than a drawn dagger. “The boy, I think, we can easily reach an agreement on. He won’t be cheap, but he’s just one of many. The other one, though… Please don’t take this as an insult to your credit line, Ambassador, but I do not think you can afford her.”

Having pretty much expected this reaction, Kendrik only smiled. 

“What about I tell you what I intend to do with her,” he offered instead. “And once you know, you make up your mind.”

“So you think you can convince me to sell her?” Madam Tochka, once again, seemed more intrigued than anything else. “Well, if you manage, I’ll throw in a frequent customer card just for managing to surprise me.”

“If you want to do me a favor, skip the card,” Kendrik replied with a pained smirk. “I’d rather not be connected to your establishment any more than necessary.” 

This time, Madam Tochka laughed out loud. “I am listening.”

“Well, here’s what I am going to do…”

\---

One and a half hours later, Kendrik settled into the plush purple upholstery of a wide armchair. Next to him, on a dainty coffee table, were two sales contracts, the ink barely dry. He had spent an ungodly sum on two slaves, a fact that would have seemed pretty unthinkable to him only a few weeks ago. The fact that he had bought a human being, that was, mostly. That he had paid more than a king’s ransom had only made matters easier for him. A human being shouldn’t be cheap, and paying anything less would have felt like an insult. 

It had taken quite some talking to Madam Tochka, but in the end she had seen that Kendrik wouldn’t settle for anything less, and that there was no real loss for her involved. A significant risk, yes, but no loss. And it had seemed like the best solution to Kendrik to leave this place in a state that would allow him to sleep at night, so he had been quite inflexible about his demands.

So once they had hammered out the details of their agreements, Kendrik had shared a brief drink with Madam Tochka on the successful transaction. After that, he had been sent into this little room with its heavy purple settees and gilded scrollwork to wait for his purchases to be handed over. 

Kendrik was so nervous his palms were sweating. 

It was so ridiculous that Kendrik had to give an audible chuckle just to keep him from pacing the place. After all that he had been through, after all he had done and pretended to be, the one thing that made him nervous like nothing else was the prospect of meeting a teenage boy he had just bought. 

The wait until his meeting with Madam Tochka had been harrowing already, but these moments were worse. 

At least, they were over soon enough. 

He could sense Luca even before he heard anyone approach the door. It took Kendrik a conscious effort to remain calm, to remain sitting and not to rush out both physically and mentally, trying to greet Luca and comfort him, telling him that all would be well now. But he managed, even if only barely so. 

Luca was led into the room by one of the many, faceless servants of the Secret Garden. Luca’s expression had been neutral but it lit up both with joy and confusion as soon as he saw who was waiting for him. 

“Kendrik!” he exclaimed, wide-eyed. “What are you…” 

But immediately, he broke off, cocking his head in this wonderful gesture that told Kendrik the boy was thinking rapidly. 

“I am sorry, milord,” Luca added almost immediately. “Have we met before?” 

Kendrik could have jumped up and kissed him. What a smart, smart boy. But instead, he remained sitting, and merely shook his head politely. 

“I am Ambassador Aquila,” Kendrik explained evenly, “and I have bought you from the Secret Garden. I am your new master.” Parallel to his words, he conveyed an intense feeling of joy and anticipation, of familiarity and excitement. Luca wouldn’t know exactly what it was he was sensing, but he would be quite sure it was Kendrik sending him those impressions, and that it was HIS Kendrik sitting in front of him. 

“Yes, I have been told so, master,” Luca replied, only a split second hesitating. “What would you like me to do?”

Kendrik had always known Luca was a talented actor, but the extent of his abilities surprised even him.   
Outwardly perfectly meek and calm, Luca seemed like a model slave. Only his emotions betrayed his curiosity, his confusion, and the burning urge to jump Kendrik and ask him what the hell was going on here. Kendrik had admittedly been a little worried about this moment, but now he was rather sure there wouldn’t be any particular risk to his cover. 

“Sit,” Kendrik ordered. “I am still waiting for another slave I have bought.” 

This time, Luca raised his eyesbrows, a fine smile in the corner of his mouth. He was dying to learn what was going on, but he also knew that there were questions rather not asked within the Secret Garden. He trusted Kendrik to tell him everything as soon as he could.   
Still perfectly acting the meek slave, Luca nodded and walked over to Kendrik, kneeling on the floor next to the armchair Kendrik was sitting in, leaning against is so Kendrik could easily pat his head if he should want so. 

For a moment, nothing happened. 

“What about you fetch me a drink?” Kendrik asked as he couldn’t just keep on sitting there in silence. “Something refreshing, no alcohol.”

“I’ll see how the bar is stocked, here, master,” Luca replied, rising to his feet in a smooth motion. He walked over to the built-in cabinet and opened its heavy oak doors, checking the contents of the bar with a professional scowl. “I fear the only thing without alcohol I can offer you is lemonade, master. Or I would have to chime for room service, if you want.”

“Lemonade will be fine, Luca.” Kendrik replied, feeling rather silly. “Do we have ice?”

“No master, I fear not.” 

“Oh never mind,” Kendrik replied. “Get yourself something to drink as well, we might have to wait for a little wile.”

“Thank you, master.” Luca poured them a glass of lemonade each, then walked back again to Kendrik. “I don’t think you’ll have to wait much longer, though,” he added. “They deliver slaves very swiftly, usually.”

“In this case, things might be a little different.” Kendrik replied with a bitter-sweet grin. “She might object.”

“Oh.” The expression was out of Luca before he could think. "I never thought a slave's objection was of any concern here, milord."

"She might be the one who knows how to make them so." Feeling Luca's burning curiosity like an itch in his soul, Kendrik took a long sip of his lemonade. "But let's not talk about other people. Did they tell you who I am?" 

"No, master," Luca replied honestly. 

"I am Kendrik Aquila of Caelius, Ambassador of House Aquila." 

Kendrik could feel Luca's thoughts race, trying to piece together what little fact he knew. 

"You are the husband of Sir Yaden," he replied after a few seconds, his dark blue eyes wide with wonder. "You're the empath he rescued out of the wreckage of the One Day War." 

"Yes, that one." Luca's fascination was almost palpable. Of course, now all the weird sensations and their merging souls during sex made a lot more sense to him. Only, of course, it created a whole new bunch of questions. 

"But how can you...," he wondered aloud, his head cocked slightly in concentration. "I thought empaths couldn't bear this place?"

Having pretty much expected this question at some point today, Kendrik smiled and pointed at the chunky necklace he wore. "I am wearing a blocker. Right now, I am as psionically active as a brick." 

Not that that necklace was doing anything. But no-one would be able to tell otherwise, and why would they doubt him, anyway? It was common knowledge that empaths and telepath had to stay away from the Secret Garden. 

"Milord, if I may ask, are you going to use me as your pet?" Luca asked innocently, jumping from one subject to the next, his curiosity burning behind his eyes. 

"What? No, I would never - ", Kendrik started but broke off as he felt a wave of cold dread coming from Luca. Being a pet is a good thing, Kendrik reminded himself firmly. For Luca, it would be a position of safety, of being cherished and part of a family, even if this was a point of view Kendrik was struggling to share. So he forced himself to say it. "Yes, of course you are going to be my pet." 

"Oh, master. That is very kind of you." There was that naughty undercurrent in Luca's voice again, this almost-purr that made Kendrik's mouth go dry, his palms go sweaty and his pants go too tight. Gods, it was so hard not to pull Luca into the closest of embraces right there and then and never let him go. 

Luckily, this was also the moment they were disturbed by another knock on the door. 

"Milord," the gray clad servant asked politely, "If it suits you, your other slave is ready now."

"Bring her in," Kendrik said, gesturing the servant get moving. "We've been waiting long enough." 

Behind the servant, a curvy woman in a narrow green cheongsam entered the room, her hair piled onto her head in that artfully messy kind of updo that showed off her perfect neck to great advantage. 

"Ondine," Kendrik said, smiling. "Please sit down, we have to talk."

At his side, Luca stared at her first, then at Kendrik, then at Ondine again, not even pretending to be anything but entirely speechless. Even though he had no idea why Kendrik had bought Mistress Ondine, he had a very clear idea of how much he had to have paid for her. And it was a sum he didn't even have thought to exist within the Empire. His new master had just gone from 'absolutely awesome' to 'slightly unreal'.

Ondine, on the other hand, didn't even for a second lose her perfect composure. As if she had been trained for this moment her entire life, she sat down in the armchair opposite Kendrik, as he had indicated, her long legs crossing with almost inhuman elegance. Kendrik was pretty sure she recognized him, but it didn’t show in the slightest.

"If they haven't told you yet, I am your new Master." Kendrik opened their conversation a little rushed, but he really wasn't in the mood to give her any chance to endanger his cover any more than necessary. "I am Ambassador Kendrik of House Aquila, and I have just bought you."

Ondine inclined her head, perfectly. "I am honored by your purchase, Master."

Even though she still had her emotions so firmly in check that Kendrik had a very hard time reading her emotions, he didn't really need to be an empath to know what she was wondering. 

"I am sure you wonder why I bought you, since we have never met before," he explained, hoping that she would catch the drift. "but I am afraid the details are to remain strictly confidential. Let me just say that my contacts within the Secret Garden have assured me that you are the perfect person to turn to for the job I need done."

Her face remained impassive, but the tiny twitch of her hands, folded in her lap, gave away how nervous she was. And little surprise at that, Kendrik thought. For her, suddenly all her life had turned upside down, the enterprise that she had worked hard for and assumed to be her shelter had just sold her to an unknown man, to do with whatever he pleased. Though, Kendrik added with an inward grin, even Ondine's immense experience probably wouldn't have prepared her for that particular task he was planning on. 

"I have been told you enjoy your work here at the Garden, don't you?" he asked politely. 

"Yes, Master."

"And you are good at it, good enough to maybe take over the daily work of the place once Madam Tochka decides to retire."

This time, she hesitated for a split second before answering. "Master, I am but a slave, and I perform the tasks I have been ordered to." 

"Oh, that was no question," Kendrik replied with a wide smile. "I merely informed you of the facts." 

Again, Ondine inclined her head, just the fraction of an inch, acknowledging his slight rebuke. 

"But also, my contacts assured me that you do not merely perform the tasks at hand here at the Garden. I have been told from very reliable sources that, despite everything, you have a heart, and that you care very much for your charges. Much more than someone in your position is supposed to." 

As it hadn't been a direct question either, Ondine remained silent, but now her eyes were moving restlessly, her confusion and worry strong enough to reach Kendrik even over the distance. 

"So to make things short, I very much appreciate the work you do here," Kendrik continued. "And I would like you to continue your work here, yet not as a slave of the Secret Garden, but as mine."

"Milord?" Ondine blinked, twice, before she continued. "Master, that is very kind of you, but I do not think I will be able to work here any longer. As a slave not owned by the estate, I will be at a constant conflict of interests here, and before long, I will be of no use to this place, its slaves, or in consequence, you."

"This is a position much more suited to a commoner, isn't it?" Kendrik replied with a growing grin. "But alas, I am not the Emperor, so I can't set you free."

Both Ondine and Luca now looked at Kendrik, at different levels of cautious disbelief, both somewhat dreading whatever idea he was about to come up with. If Kendrik hadn't been so excited, he'd have laughed out loud. 

"Lucky for all of us, I am married to a demon. Literally. And said demon assists me in legal matters." Kendrik dug into the chest pocket of his jacket and produced a small stack of notes. "And I think we found quite an elegant solution for all of us."

With an encouraging nod, he handed the notes over to Ondine, watching with fiendish glee as for the first time since he met her, he witnesses Ondine lose her perfect composure. 

"But these are..." she started, her voice catching. 

"Affidavits," Kendrik explained, mostly for Luca, who was close to jumping to his feet and looking over Ondine's shoulders. "A nice stack of affidavits, confirming that whatever you did, you did on my explicit orders, and that anyone seeking regress should take it up with me personally. All of them already signed, you only need to fill in a date to make them valid." 

"Awesome;" it burst out of Luca. "Does this mean she can do whatever she wants and it's all your fault?" 

At this outburst, Kendrik couldn't keep a straight face any longer, and broke into laughter himself. Damn, he was so very much looking forward to spending some time outside the Garden with Luca. 

"Not quite," Kendrik replied once he had caught his breath. "Theoretically, she could, yes, but then she quickly would stop being useful to Madam Tochka, and she would send her away. So she will have to negotiate her standing very carefully, only now she will have a few real bargaining chips. Pretty much like a commoner in such a position."

"Master, I don't know what to say - " Ondine said softly, her voice close to catching. In her hands, she was still holding the affidavits, the expensive paper quivering slightly. 

"Then don't say anything." Kendrik reached over to Ondine and took her hands into his own. "You have done a lot of good here with very little means, and I really would like to see what you can do once you have the right tools at your disposal. You are probably the best qualified person to make this place a little less of a hellhole, step by step, one encouraging smile at a time."

"You are giving me way too much credit, Master." Her eyes down cast, Ondine seemed genuinely daunted. Through the connection Kendrik had established when taking her hands, though, he could feel that she was both scared and excited by the future ahead of her, daunted and empowered, and willing to work harder than ever before. "But I will try."

"I knew you would." Gently patting her hands, Kendrik let go and sat down comfortably again. "If ever you need anything, please let me know. If it's urgent or delicate, get out of the Secret Garden and think of me, I should be able to pick up your thoughts as long as I am within the Empire. In an emergency, think of Serin Prime and tell him you're my property. He'll help you first and ask questions later."

Ondine gave a tiny, breathless laugh, her immaculate face struggling with excitement and disbelief. 

"Yes, Master. As you wish." 

"Good." Still smiling, Kendrik continued. "I want you to stay alive, and happy. If either of them is no longer possible here, I want you to take the first port to P2, and then we'll figure out a decent future for you."

"Yes, Master."

"And until then, I want you to continue your work here. I think you will figure out a good way to get some slaves into decent homes, don't you? Some I particularly care for?"

"I think I do, Master." Slowly, Ondine was regaining her composure, only her brightly beaming eyes showing how excited she was. 

"Perfect." Content, Kendrik leaned back and took a long sip of his lemonade. Then, he dug into his pocket and fished out a small jewelry box. "Here, these are for you, as well. I am still new to the customs of this Empire, but I have been told this will help you fend of anyone too stupid to listen to paperwork."

With a slightly exhausted smile, Ondine opened the box, looked at its contents and sighed deeply. 

"What is it?" Luca insisted, craning his neck until Ondine tilted the box so he could see. 

Inside, on a small pillow of dark velvet, were two earrings. One a creole of clear crystal, the other one a golden creole, with a tiny golden phoenix dangling down. 

"Some people might see this as a challenge," Ondine said, softly, still staring at the earrings in her hand. 

"Probably," Kendrik replied. "One, maybe even two. But no more than that, I think. Do you know why there are no earrings marking you as protected by any particular Phoenix Knight?" 

"Because if you anger one of them, you anger all of them," she replied evenly. "But we're on Serin. It might take three until they learned the lesson."

"So what." Kendrik replied with a shrug. "Quite a lot of my husband's colleagues are itching to be let off the leash. Just make sure you warn any potential trespassers, if they still bother you after that, they're not worth saving."

"Master is too generous," Ondine said, her expression showing a lot more gratitude than her words would have let to believe. "I will try to be worth all this."

"I am quite sure you will be much more." With what he hoped would look like an encouraging smile, he concluded: "Do you need anything else right now? Money, anything?" 

"No, Master. And if I do, I know how to contact you." 

"Very good." Nodding at Ondine, he added: "Well then, be off, I think your shift has started already." 

A beaming smile grew on her face, and she rose with effortless elegance from her position in the armchair. 

"Your will, Master," she replied with a bow so deep it seemed acrobatic considering the high heels that she wore. 

"And put in the earrings, they only help when you wear them."

"Yes, Master, I will." Smiling, she stopped in the doorway and turned around one last time. "I will bring your regular reports on my progress, Master."

"I am very much looking forward to that," Kendrik replied and watched as Ondine left with a last nod. Then he turned his attention back to Luca, who was still sitting on the floor at his side, his glass of lemonade completely forgotten next to him. "Ready to leave?"

"Oh so fucking ready, Master," Luca replied, giddy and just a little mocking. "Readier than I've ever been." 

"Perfect. I need to get out of here." Offering Luca a hand, he pulled him off the floor and into his arms, kissing him playfully. "Come on, I don't want to spend a second longer than necessary here." 

"Same with me, Master, same with me." 

This was delivered with such deadpan humor that Kendrik laughed out loud again, causing Luca to snicker as well. Holding hands, they walked down the corridors of the Secret Garden together, not as employees, but as honored guests, and on the shortest way to the next porter platform they could find. 

It took them only a few minutes until they were standing in the middle of one of the iconic red circles on the floor, still holding hands. 

"Ready for port?" Kendrik asked, and Luca nodded, his lips pressed tightly together with excitement. 

As Kendrik had already booked a return port to P2, it didn't take much more than half a thought for him to reach an operator of the local guild, and within less time than it took to take a breath, they were suddenly standing in the bright sunlight of Yaden's island, on a little patch of cleared ground near the path halfway between the manor and the servant's quarters. 

Freed from the toxic background of the Secret Garden, Kendrik suddenly felt himself all but washed away with Luca's emotions, his mind suddenly flooded with brilliant streaks of blue and silver, sparkling with excitement and joy like fireworks in the night. 

Before Kendrik could say a word, Luca jumped at him and hugged him fiercely, kissing him and cuddling him as if he had no intention of ever letting him go. 

"Hey you little rascal," Kendrik said, gently tousling Luca's hair, holding him with all the love that he felt. "Don't rush. We got all of our lives." 

Luca leaned back, chewing his lower lip, looking impish and stunningly beautiful at the same time. "You came back for me."

"Of course I did." Hugging Luca closely again, Kendrik added: "And just so we got this out of the way as soon as possible - yes, it was me all the time in the Garden, and no, I really think that you are better off not knowing why." 

Connected as their emotions were by now, Luca knew perfectly well that Kendrik was not patronizing him in the slightest, but honestly trying to keep something rather ugly away from him. So he just nodded, one of his hands trying to find a way under Kendrik's shirt. 

"But I can tell you that I was there for a reason,” Kendrik continued explaining, pushing Luca’s hand out of his clothes with gentle insistence. ”And that the whole thing ended up with the Emperor owing me a favor. Just a small one, but still. And I think I have found the perfect way to make him pay." 

Reaching into his other pocket, Kendrik came up with another small box, pretty much like the one he had handed Ondine only moments earlier. "I can't set you free as you would deserve, but I can get you the best protection this Empire can offer." 

With those words, he opened the box, revealing another clear crystal creole and a deceptively simple looking one of red-golden metal without any adornments. The symbol of Imperial protection. 

"Nobody is ever going to lay hand on you again." 

Luca gave a small choked sound and looked up at Kendrik, his eyes brimming with moisture. For a long moment, his lower lip quivered with words he couldn't seem to find, his heart too full with too many things to say them at once. Then, finally, he just gave a tiny shrug and a smile and whispered: "Oh god. I love you so much." 

Knowing that this was exactly what Luca felt right now, and that Luca knew just exactly that the feeling was mutual, there was only one thing left for Kendrik to say. 

"And I love you, too. So very much." 

Kendrik pulled Luca closer again, tugging him under his chin in a heartfelt gesture of protection. 

"Come on," he added after a while. "Let's go meet your family."


End file.
